Perceptions
by PrincessJosephine
Summary: New to Milton, Mr Hale encourages his daughter Margaret to develop a friendship with Fanny Thornton, his student's sister. He believes that the acquaintance will be beneficial to both ladies. John Thornton, the handsome Master of Marlborough Mills, also has high hopes for the relationship. But for reasons of his own...
1. Chapter 1

_Please note that all of these characters belong to the amazing and inspiring Elizabeth Gaskell. I do not own them in any way. If I have borrowed some of her phrases without acknowledging it in italics, I apologise. I probably couldn't think of a better way to say something than she did!_

_This story covers a bit of old ground to start with. Stick with me. It does start to branch out in later chapters. PJ_

* * *

_A more proud, disagreeable girl I never saw. Even her great beauty is blotted out of one's memory by her scornful ways._

John Thornton walked swiftly from Crampton, the cold night air almost stealing his breath. He had been to tea at the Hales' home on invitation from the former Reverend Hale, who was now his tutor. The design of the evening was for John to meet Mr Hale's wife and become better acquainted with his daughter, who he had only met once before.

John grimaced at the thought of his first meeting with the beautiful but seemingly impervious Miss Hale. He had called on Mr Hale at the hotel the family were staying at during their search for a house in Milton. Expecting to meet his new tutor, he was surprised instead to be greeted by Miss Margaret Hale, his friend's haughty yet exceedingly attractive daughter. John knew of her existence, but he had expected her to still be a child - which Miss Hale certainly was not.

John recalled her look of proud indifference as she surveyed him. He was sure she imagined him a great rough fellow without refinement or gentlemanly manner. But her quiet coldness in turn made him decide that he did not like her.

And yet tonight, seeing Miss Hale with her family, he had witnessed glimpses of deep affection and a light heartedness that he had not thought her capable of. Particularly in her attachment to her father; the love and trust were evident in their intimacy and shared laughter as she poured his tea.

But John only had a fleeting moment to observe her openness of manner. Almost like she had become aware of his attention, Miss Hale retreated into the corner of the room into her own thoughts, never to be shared with one such as him. He was never likely to know her secrets.

How ironic, John thought. He himself was usually guarded in how much he revealed to strangers. He fiercely protected his family's privacy. But tonight in response to Miss Hale's open hostility at what she perceived to be his personal prejudice against the working classes, he had acted out of character. John had shared deeply personal matters; revealing the painful story of a childhood cut short by the tragic death of his father; how he and his mother had endured years of sacrifice and self denial to rebuild their life; and that only his strength of character had allowed him to rise to the ranks of Master of his own mill. Even now he could not explain why he should tell a virtual stranger such a private thing. His only explanation was that, for some reason, he could not bear to have her misunderstand him in such a fundamental way.

John now worried that instead of improving her opinion, his candidness about his past had only diminished his standing in her eyes.

Despite her obvious disdain for him, John was undeniably attracted to Mr Hale's daughter. She _made him feel awkward in every limb_ when he was in her presence. He found it difficult to form coherent speech. In contrast she had moved about the Hale home this evening with the grace and divinity of an angel in her pink muslin. The only item betraying her perfect exterior was the bracelet that kept slipping down her delicate, ivory arms. It fascinated him to see her push it up repeatedly.

John tried to shake the thoughts of Miss Hale from his mind. She would never seriously consider him a suitor. She made that plain in her manner tonight.

John enjoyed the company of Mr Hale, and apart from Miss Hale's frosty reception, found the Hale home to be warm and welcoming. As he arrived this evening, Miss Hale was lighting the lamps. The light shed a warm glow onto the various _pretty baskets of work_ and treasured books with battered bindings that lay about on small tables by comfortable chairs. A perfectly starched white tablecloth with cocoa-nut cakes in crystal plates was the only starkness in this otherwise homely picture. John observed with curiosity that Mrs Hale, thin and pale and with a shawl around her fragile shoulders, prevailed over the gathering with the dignity of an aristocrat despite her meager setting. At the time John had wondered whether this characteristic in her mother might explain the superiority of manner in Miss Hale.

John's friendship with Mr Hale was developing into one of the most important of his life. He had transitioned into manhood without the guidance of a father. His mother had been an indefatigable support, but he missed his father, and longed for all of the advice he would have given him. However, since meeting with Mr Hale regularly, and now being welcomed into his home, the sense of loss somehow seemed lessened.

John wanted Mr Hale and his family to feel at home here in Milton. It was clear that the move had not been sanctioned by the Hale ladies, and that the matter was a still a sensitive topic in their home. John suspected that some of their discomfort stemmed from loneliness.

Arriving back at Marlborough Street, John went in search of his mother.

Entering the house he heard her call out 'Is that you John?' John affectionately noted that despite her ageing body, her senses were sharp and agile.

He found her in her usual chair in the dining room mending a napkin bearing their initials. She was handsomely dressed in _stout black linen_ wearing her usual dour expression. It was this expression, more than her attire that lent her the severe appearance she was renowned for in Milton.

'Yes, good evening Mother.' John stooped to kiss her cheek before walking to the side table to pour himself a drink.

'How was your evening with _The Hales_?' she said.

John noted his mother's derisive tone. When he had returned home earlier to dress for tea, Mrs Thornton had made it clear that she felt it unnecessary to go to such effort for a _renegade clergyman_ and his family. She had also warned him against Miss Hale lest she go angling after him as a husband. The thought was absurd to John, and he had said as much to his mother.

'The evening was very nice, thank you Mother. And you will note that I have returned home unshackled and unscathed as I predicted.' John said this with a playful sense of mischief. He secretly enjoyed riling his mother.

'You mock my warnings, but she is not of our world. Milton girls may have more self respect, but these southern types see rich husbands as prizes to be won. You are naïve my dear boy if you think you are not a likely target for such unscrupulous behavior – particularly when the girl is desperate and penniless.'

John fought hard not to laugh. 'As I have told you before Mother, Miss Hale treats me mostly with indifference, on occasion with contempt. Her mother, I am certain seems equally unimpressed. You do not need to worry. I am in no danger.' John felt something akin to disappointment as he said this.

John came over to kneel by his mother. 'I do however enjoy my lessons with Mr Hale. His friendship means a lot to me.' John's voice became a little thick, prompting Mrs Thornton to brush his hair back with her hand in an intimate maternal gesture. She understood his growing attachment to Mr Hale and his search to fill the void left by his father's untimely death.

At that moment John's sister Fanny bounded into the dining room. John stood to greet her before returning to the sideboard to top up his drink.

'Where have you been tonight John?' Fanny asked as she sat down to begin some needlework.

John considered his sister for a moment. He couldn't help making comparisons between her and Miss Hale. Fanny had an obvious beauty, with blonde ringlets and huge blue eyes. This was in contrast to the dark tresses and grey eyes of the mysterious Miss Hale. Fanny always dressed in bright colours and had a natural energy that gave her a childlike quality. Miss Hale on the other hand could wear rags with regal grace, holding her head high with superior elegance. Fanny seemed to say the first thing that came to her head. Miss Hale was considered in all her discourse.

'I told you before Fanny, he went to the Hales for tea,' Mrs Thornton chastised.

'How you seem to like these Hales John? And yet we've never laid eyes on them.' Fanny was almost pouting as she said this.

'You are right Fanny, and that is something I would like to correct.' Turning to his mother now, 'I have told Mr Hale that you and Fanny will call on Mrs and Miss Hale tomorrow to take tea.'

Mrs Thornton glared at John.

'Mother, I just finished saying how much Mr Hale's friendship means to me. I suspect Mr Hale worries that his wife and daughter have not yet settled into Milton life. He wants them to be happy here. I think that if they can form some friendships and connections of their own in Milton that they will feel more at ease.'

With his mother still looking furious and unyielding, John changed to a sterner more authoritative tone. 'Mother, Fanny, I would like you to extend Mrs and Miss Hale your friendship and welcome.'

Fanny, almost oblivious to her mother's ire chimed in, 'Well I for one can hardly blame them for not wanting to come to such a filthy, smoky town. Who would want to leave London or wherever they came from to come here.' Fanny was in truth intrigued to meet the Hales who had captured the interest and attention of her brother.

Mrs Thornton threw her sewing down on the table. 'Think of what you are asking me to do, John. You expect me to befriend a girl and her mother who you yourself have confessed have treated you with derision, turned up their nose at you..'

'Mother, I am asking you to show some kindness to the wife and daughter of a friend of mine. That is all. Please let us have no more discussion. You and Fanny will go to Crampton to the Hales tomorrow.' John put his hand on Mrs Thorton's shoulder to calm her as he prepared to leave the room. 'You may even enjoy your visit Mother.' John gave her a meaningful look that he knew would settle the matter.


	2. Chapter 2

Feeling uncomfortable with the forbidding silence in the room, Margaret discreetly assessed their recently arrived guests. Mrs Thornton with her stern face and impeccable dress (albeit mourning attire) sat sipping her tea looking disapprovingly at her surrounds. Her daughter, with her huge starched petticoat and hoops shrouded in multicolored frills, puffs and lace seemed like she wanted to talk but held back as if awaiting her mother's cue.

Margaret could tell that her own mother, the former Beresford belle of the county, who was used to navigating social situations, found this particular company one of the most challenging yet. Mrs Thornton's resentment at being in their home at the request of her son was evident.

'Mrs Thornton, please allow me to compliment you on your lace. Such English pointwork has not been available for many years. I presume it is an heirloom?' Margaret felt relieved that her mother had broken the ice with sincere praise.

'Yes Mrs Hale. You clearly have an eye for quality,' said Mrs Thornton, returning a compliment. 'This was my Great Grandmother's. It was passed to me by my mother.' She returned to sipping her tea with no further attempt at extending the conversation.

Searching for another topic, Mrs Hale settled on seeking a recommendation from Mrs Thornton regarding a servant to assist Dixon.

Now happy that her mother was engaged in a lengthy conversation with Mrs Hale, Fanny finally spoke. '_I suppose you are not musical_ as I see no piano?'

Margaret almost laughed at Fanny's very frank and mildly insensitive comment. She appeared to be around her own age yet seemed younger somehow. Margaret calculated that Fanny would have been a little girl when her father died so probably remembered little of the struggles that Mr Thornton and his mother endured in the years after. She probably only knew the comforts of her current life.

'No, we sold ours before we moved to Milton.' Margaret watched as Fanny gasped in pity. 'Oh, it was of no importance. I did not play well anyway. I always seemed to find other things to do when I was meant to be practicing.' Margaret grinned at her own joke, but the meaning seemed to escape Fanny.

'What do you do with your time then Miss Hale? _A piano almost seems a necessity of life to me._' Margaret could see that Fanny found her indifference to musical proficiency difficult to comprehend.

'A great many things. I like to read, and to draw. When I was at home in Helstone I would often go out with my father and visit the poor or the aged in their homes and try to be useful to them in any way I could.' Margaret observed Fanny's expression of disgust at the thought of servitude. 'However, I actually spent a good deal of my growing up in London. I lived with my Aunt in Harley Street. My cousin Edith and I took our lessons together…'

'You lived in London?' exclaimed a wide-eyed Fanny. 'London and the Alhambra are the two places I long to see. But Mamma refuses to take me. She has never left Milton in her life and doesn't understand my longing to explore new places.'

Fanny had lived an even more sheltered life than herself thought Margaret. 'Well perhaps your brother would accompany you if you asked him? He seems to take a very keen interest in the world.'

'John?' Fanny sulked. 'John would never take me to London. All he can think about is cotton and machines and looms. I'm sure he has never had a thought enter his head that did not involve Marlborough Mill.'

'I am sure that is not true, Miss Thornton. Perhaps you just need to find the right opportunity to bring it up.' Margaret smiled sympathetically at Fanny.

Just then Mrs Thornton announced their departure. 'Well Fanny, I think it is time that we left Mrs and Miss Hale to their needlework. Thank you for your hospitality Mrs Hale. We shall see ourselves out.'

As they turned to go, Fanny impetuously added, 'Miss Hale, do you think you could come to Marlborough Street to visit with us tomorrow? I desire to hear more about your life in London, and perhaps we can brush up on your piano skills? I have a new tune I can play for you. I will have John send the carriage for you at 10 o'clock.'

Margaret looked to her mother who was equally surprised by the invitation. 'Ah..that is very kind of you Miss Thornton. I would be delighted to spend more time with you, only there is no need to send a carriage. I would prefer to walk the short distance to the mill.'

Mrs Thornton, observing the conversation now intervened. 'Short distance Miss Hale? It is nearly two miles. Surely Mrs Hale you do not allow your daughter to gallivant around Milton in such a brazen manner?' Mrs Thornton did not wait for an answer to her question. 'No Miss Hale, if my daughter insists on allowing you to fill her head with frivolous tales of London, then you will arrive by carriage and that is that.' Mrs Thornton turned on her heel with Fanny scurrying behind with an anxious smile.

Margaret and her mother looked at each other with relief that the visit was over.

Later that evening Mr Hale enquired after his wife and daughter's meeting with John's relation.

'Mrs Thornton looked very handsome in her mourning clothes,' said Mrs Hale. 'I suspect she comes from a good family, although we were unable to find out very much about her history.'

Margaret smiled at her mother's subtlety. 'Mamma, you are being too kind. Mrs Thornton hardly said a word Papa, and when she did she was almost uncivil. She made it painfully clear she did not want to be here. Her daughter Fanny was amiable enough. Although I'm afraid she has an unpleasing immaturity about her.'

Mr Hale admired his daughter's clarity of mind, but wondered whether she might be too hasty in her judgments at times. 'Margaret, Mrs Thornton has had a difficult life. She probably had little opportunity to go into society. It is possible that she and her daughter are just not as practiced at making the acquaintance of strangers as you would like them to be.'

'For someone who has had a difficult life my dear, I do agree that she is uncommonly proud and condescending,' said Mrs Hale.

_'__I fancy Mrs. Thornton is as haughty and proud in her way, as our little Margaret here is in hers, and that she completely ignores that old time of trial, and poverty, and economy... I am sure, at any rate, she would not like strangers to know anything about it._'

_'Take notice that is not my kind of haughtiness, papa, if I have any at all; which I don't agree to, though you're always accusing me of it.'_

'Well my dear, I think that you should give your relationship with the Thornton women a chance to develop. In time you might find you have more in common with them than you think. I know John felt confident that you would all benefit from the companionship.' Mr Hale quietly hoped he was correct in this assessment.

'I thank Mr Thornton for his… consideration. But I think I have spent all the time I want to in the company of Mrs and Miss Thornton,' said Margaret emphatically.

'Margaret dear, I don't think you will have any choice in the matter now. You do recall that you committed to spending the morning with Miss Thornton tomorrow?' Mrs Hale reminded.

Margaret chewed her lip in irritation. 'Oh that's right. But there must be some way I can excuse myself from visiting with the Thornton's? Mrs Thornton detests me, her son finds my opinions disagreeable, and his sister..well whilst I don't dislike Miss Thornton, I do think that we are unlikely to find so much in common as to become firm friends. Personally I believe she has been wholly spoiled and sheltered by her brother and mother; perhaps in some admirable but misguided attempt to protect her from their own struggles and hardships.'

'That may be true Margaret,' said Mr Hale. 'But if that is the case, don't you think she would benefit from spending time with good company. If indeed she is naive to or unaffected by the plight of others, perhaps your influence could be of benefit to her character.'

'You flatter me Papa,' said Margaret.

'I am quite serious Margaret. "Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven."'

'Margaret will do the right thing my dear,' said Mrs Hale to her husband. 'We can always be assured of that. Now, if you will excuse me, I think I will retire for the evening.'

'I will see you upstairs, my love.' Mr Hale helped his wife stand and tucked her arm tenderly under his. 'Margaret, Mr Thornton is a good man, I am sure his family has more virtues than you currently give them credit for.' Mr and Mrs Hale left Margaret to her thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

John paced his office looking out his window intermittently. He had literally piles of correspondence to respond to, orders to process and accounts to balance but his thoughts were not focused on work today.

Fanny was expecting a visit this morning from Miss Hale. His mother had argued with Fanny during supper last night that she should not form a hasty friendship with Miss Hale.

Fanny had whined, 'But why not Mamma? We are of a similar age, and John thinks well of the Hales, don't you John?'

'Indeed I do Fanny. Mr Hale is a gentleman and his wife and daughter are accomplished ladies. I am sure that Miss Hale can only be a good influence on Fanny, Mother.

_'They do not seem to me out of the common way,' said Mrs. Thornton. .. Mrs Hale's a bit of a fine lady; and as for the girl—…she seems to have a great notion of giving herself airs; and I can't make out why. I could almost fancy she thinks herself too good for her company at times. And yet they're not rich, from all I can hear they never have been.' _

Mrs Thornton resigned herself. 'But do as you will, Fanny. Spend time with the girl and move on to the next acquaintance when you lose interest.'

At this remark from her mother, Fanny petulantly left the table to attend to her piano practice. As she began the first few notes of a new solo composition she had acquired, John took the opportunity to speak privately with his mother.

'I do wish you would try to like Miss Hale, Mother. I really do believe it would be beneficial for Fanny to spend time with her.'

'Why John? What can a high and mighty clergyman's daughter possibly teach Fanny?' Mrs Thornton picked up her sewing to resume her repairs on one of John's crisp white shirts. John noted that his mother did this when she was feeling anxious.

'I worry about Fanny, Mother. Any day now she may catch the eye of a suitor and marry. I worry that we have not prepared her adequately for her future life. We have spoilt her. With the best intentions we have shielded her from anything that could cause her worry or discomfort. But in doing so we have not done her any favour.' John thought again of the extraordinary Miss Hale. 'Fanny is weakminded. She often fancies herself ill. She does not take responsibility for anything or stop to consider the welfare of others.'

'And you think this Miss Hale can fix all these slights in Fanny,' said Mrs Thornton with scorn.

'Of course not Mother. But Miss Hale has many qualities to admire. She remains graceful in the face of her family's reduced circumstances. She is loyal to her parents. She readily raises her thoughts beyond her own cares to the lives of others and will defend her beliefs with steady resolve. Not to mention she has a keen intellect.'

'It is true that qualities such as these are to be admired. But I'm sorry John, I find it hard to forgiver her poor judgment,' said Mrs Thornton in rebuff. 'To turn up her nose at us all, at you..'

'My pride is not hurt by that Mother. I can laugh it off. She has done me no injury.' John realized he said these words with more conviction than he actually felt. It did bother him that Miss Hale did not think well of him. 'But she has backbone, Mother. Something that Fanny sorely misses. And it would seem that Fanny is quite keen to pursue her friendship with Miss Hale. I think we should let it run its course.'

Mrs Thornton rolled her eyes and continued sewing. 'I can't say I look forward to her spending time in this house. But I suppose it will give me time to decide _whether I like or dislike her most_,' she said with a wry smile.

John's thoughts returned to the present and the anticipated arrival of the carriage he had sent to fetch Miss Hale. He glanced out into the yard once again. He knew this preoccupation with his tutor's daughter was not a healthy one. He would do his best to contain his interest in her. He was not inclined to make a fool of himself over a pretty face. But his suspicion was that there was a lot more to Miss Hale than that. He should like to know her better.

At the sound of hooves approaching, John put his coat on and walked briskly out of his office and into the yard. He had the door to the carriage open before the footman even had a chance.

'Miss Hale, welcome to Marlborough Street.' His voice was steady and thankfully did not betray the erratic beat of his heart at the sight of her. Dressed in the palest shade of blue, her head characteristically held high in regal attitude, she reminded him of Chione, the beautiful Goddess of snow. John remembered from his readings that Chione broke a lot of hearts.

As she caught sight of him, her grey eyes fleetingly revealed puzzlement at his presence. 'Mr Thornton, I had not expected...' Pausing, Margaret regained her composure. 'Thank you for receiving me.'

John held out his hand to assist Margaret from the carriage. His whole being resonated with her touch. As they walked to the stairs of the house, John said, 'I was pleased to hear that my sister had extended you an invitation. More so, I am obliged to you for accepting,' he said earnestly.

'You are too kind sir, I am sure. I am the stranger in town. Fanny does me a service by extending her friendship to me.' Margaret's face softened as she looked towards the mill. 'I must say I had no idea how close to the mill your house is. I imagine it would be most convenient for you to return home at your leisure throughout the day.'

John smiled, now thinking of how many times his mother had chastised him for not returning home for luncheon and even on occasion dinner when he needed to work late. 'You would think so wouldn't you?' At that moment John looked up to see his mother looking out of the upstairs window. 'Enjoy your visit Miss Hale,' he bowed his head and turned to leave.

Behind him John heard a faint 'I will, thank you Mr Thornton.'

John returned to his office, feeling exhilarated by his encounter with the lovely Miss Hale. Deciding that returning to his paperwork would prove fruitless today, John removed his coat, rolled up his sleeves and decided to walk the floor of the mill.

As he set out, the mill foreman beckoned him. 'Master, I am glad ye decided to tour the floor today. The loom is being a right pest. Perhaps ye should take a look at it sir.' John eyed Smithy. He was a good man. He kept to his time, showed loyalty and was fair with the workers. But he had proven a on a number of occasions that he lacked ingenuity, particularly where there were problems with workmanship and the machines.

After scrutinizing the situation, John tested a run and gathered some tools before climbing in under the loom. This would take a little while he thought.

Two hours of tightening, re-aligning, greasing and testing and the loom was again in good working order. Feeling stiff, John slowly unfolded his large frame from underneath the machinery and stood up. He could see his hands were covered in grease, and his white shirt was in need of changing. He looked at the time and figured that he would have missed seeing Miss Hale again as the carriage took her back to Crampton.

Loosening his cravat, John climbed the stairs to his house and entered the front door. As he did, he could hear the dulcet tones of the most pure voice he had ever heard. No longer thinking about his attire, he proceeded to the apartment where the piano was housed to relieve his curiosity. Next to the piano, with her back to him, stood the feminine form of Miss Hale. Oblivious to his presence, Margaret continued singing, finally bringing the song to its dramatic end with a crescendo of pitch perfect notes. John could not help but applaud, surprising Miss Hale who turned around with a horrified look.

'Please don't be embarrassed Miss Hale, your singing was truly enchanting. I would not be exaggerating to say I have not heard your equal.' John felt satisfied that he had just unlocked another secret of this remarkable woman.

'Thank you sir, but I could not have sounded well without Miss Thornton's proficiency on the pianoforte. She is quite the maestro.'

'Please call me Fanny, Margaret. And with a little of my tutorage, you will be as proficient as me.' Fanny looked at John and gasped. 'John, what have you been doing, you are covered in grease. Don't let Mamma see you like that – she will be livid if you soil her furniture.'

John remembered his original purpose for returning to the house and glanced in the mirror. Feeling self-conscious at his disheveled state, he looked at Miss Hale. She was avoiding his gaze. He figured that he had probably made her feel uncomfortable. Regretfully, he excused himself as he hurried to his room to wash up and change his shirt.

As he was finishing he heard a knock on the door before his mother entered. John was tying his fresh cravat as he turned to her. 'The loom needed some attention. I got grease on my shirt so I came home to change.'

'So Fanny told me. I just came to ask you whether you would be joining the ladies for lunch. Fanny has invited Miss Hale to stay so I have asked cook to serve roast beef.' Mrs Thornton looked less than impressed by the imposition.

'Roast beef is my favourite Mother. How could I say no to such an offer.' John gave his mother a boyish smile.

As she walked out of the room she said, 'You have before.'

John decided he would need to be more guarded around his mother. She knew him too well and could tell his enthusiasm for Miss Hale. He did not need her to repeat the lectures he was already giving himself about the perils of falling in love with her.

Love. Was it love he was beginning to feel for Miss Hale? But how could he love a woman who could barely stand to be in the same room as him? Who thought he was uncouth and, probably after his behavior today, ridiculous. And what good was love if was unrequited?

Still, no harm could be done in trying to improve her opinion of him. Even if was just for Mr Hale's and Fanny's benefit, John told himself.

When he entered the dining room, the ladies were already seated at the table. His mother was evidently deep in discussion with Miss Hale. 'Do you know anything of Milton yet Miss Hale? Have you visited a factory or seen our warehouses?'

John took his seat at the head of the table with a curious glance from Fanny who was not used to having lunch with her brother.

'No Mrs Thornton. I must confess that until this point I have not expressed an interest in visiting manufactories, otherwise I am sure Papa would have arranged my education.'

'I would think that as strangers to a town known across the empire, if not the world, for its eminence in industry, that you would be impatient to visit some of the places where that business is carried out,' said Mrs Thornton with pride.

'Oh Mamma. I don't know why any lady would like to see mills and manufactories, and those sorts of things,' Fanny muttered.

John looked at Margaret as she considered his mother's words. Half expecting her to reject Mrs Thornton's assertion, he was pleasantly surprised when she replied, 'What would you suggest I see?'

Still skeptical, Mrs Thornton offered, 'I would be happy to arrange your admission to print-works, or reed-making if it pleased you Miss Hale?'

'I would be grateful ma'am, if you think them the best place to start.' Margaret looked directly at Mrs Thornton, almost like she was accepting a challenge.

John could not help seizing the opportunity that had just been presented to him. 'Miss Hale, perhaps you would rather start with the finest example of Milton industry, right here at Marlborough Mill. I would be happy to show you around myself.'

John again noted Margaret's brows wrinkle in that look of puzzlement. 'Sir, I would not want to inconvenience you. I know that you are a very busy man.'

'Yes, John, I'm sure your foreman would be more than capable of showing Miss Hale the basic operations,' interjected his mother.

'I assure you Miss Hale that it is not an inconvenience. Today is Tuesday. Perhaps you would like to come after lunch on Thursday. We can take the tour and then maybe you can stay for tea and visit with Fanny again.' John felt quite pleased with the plan he had just devised.

'Oh yes Margaret. You promised to bring the details of the tune your Aunt had written to you about. I am sure if I send away for it we may be able to practice it together,' Fanny encouraged.

Margaret still looked uncertain but nodded her agreement to the arrangement for Thursday. 'Perhaps Fanny you would like to join us for the tour? Don't you think it would be a good opportunity for you to refresh your knowledge of your brother's mill?'

Whilst Miss Hale was exhibiting her excellent character by encouraging Fanny in her knowledge of the mill, John secretly hoped that Fanny would reject the invitation so that he could be allowed the privilege of spending time alone with her friend.

'No thank you Margaret. I will wait for you in the house. But I warn you; John can talk about the mill for hours. Please have no apprehension about advising him when you have heard enough. I would not be surprised if you should become bored within 10 minutes!'

John laughed, a joyous sound. Mrs Thornton said nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

When Margaret arrived home from the Thorntons', there was a letter waiting for her from Aunt Shaw. There were still a few months left of the social season in London. With Edith away in Corfu with her new husband, Aunt Shaw had written to beg Margaret's return to Harley Street - for at least a month - to call on friends and acquaintances and accompany her to parties and events.

Under ordinary circumstances Margaret would never have considered leaving Milton and more especially her parents so soon after their settling in. But with her recent endeavor to befriend Fanny, Margaret felt that Aunt Shaw's invitation might be the perfect opportunity to expose Fanny to new company as well as fulfill her dream to go to London.

Perhaps she would speak to Mr Thornton about it on Thursday during their tour of the mill. Whilst Margaret felt that Mrs Thornton did not look upon her friendship with Fanny favourably, it did seem that Mr Thornton was going out of his way to encourage it. If Margaret was not mistaken, Mr Thornton had even implied that she was doing them a favour by spending time with Fanny.

Margaret was a little surprised that Mr Thornton should think so highly of her given the difficult start to their relationship. They had quarreled when he came to tea. She had assumed too much about him and all but accused him of being a member of the bourgeoisie. Margaret realized her error once she heard his account of overcoming financial adversity through diligence and self-denial. She particularly found his tender respect for his mother very fine. But Margaret was still angered by his contempt for those that remained in the working class just because they lacked his _iron nature_ and the capabilities that elevated his own situation. More infuriating was that a man in Mr Thornton's position of power and influence did not see it as his duty to assist these poor people to change, or to educate them as to how they could better help themselves.

Margaret knew that her father had come to respect Mr Thornton in their short acquaintance. He had said that Mr Thornton had a natural intellect despite a lack of formal education. If that was true, she pondered, then surely Mr Thornton could be made to see reason and alter his approach to his workers, at least in due course? Margaret decided that she would make an effort to get to know Mr Thornton better - for her father's sake.

Margaret wondered whether she might be biting off more than she could chew to try and correct the attitudes of two Thorntons at once! Still, Thursday would provide her the opportunity to better guage Mr Thornton's views, after which she could decide whether she still did not like him and if indeed he was a lost cause.

Margaret laughed at her own conceit. She had to concede that Mr Thornton was handsome. Not like a conventional London gentleman, but in a masculine, dynamic, Northern way. She couldn't help envisioning the endearing picture of him standing in the doorway of the piano room, looking unkempt, applauding her singing with a smudge of grease on on his nose. Oh it was a pity that such a handsome smile should be tainted by such incorrect opinions!

Margaret remembered the letter in her hand and determined she should speak with her parents before responding to Aunt Shaw. Margaret went to find her mother, only to be told by Dixon that she had lay down to rest awhile.

'Is she unwell Dixon? Does she have a headache?' asked Margaret, concerned that the move to Milton was taking its toll on her Mother. There had been other signs of something wrong about Mrs. Hale. Margaret had witnessed Dixon exiting her mother's room last week crying and upset. Mrs Hale was not of a strong constitution normally, and was prone to restlessness and depression at times.

'Oh you know how she can be Margaret. Do not worry yourself. A little rest and there will be pink in her cheeks again.' Dixon continued on with her dusting. Margaret would speak to her mother later.

The following morning, after helping Dixon starch some linens, Margaret sat down next to her mother in her favourite chair. 'I am no longer _Peggy the laundry maid Mamma, but Margaret Hale the lady_.' Margaret had intended this as a joke but her mother became distressed.

'If I had known when I was Miss Beresford, the belle of the county, that a daughter of mine would be standing all day doing laundry work and my son would be have a price on his head, marked as a traitor …Oh, Margaret, it is all too difficult for me to bear.' Mrs Hale broke into tears.

Margaret put her arm around her mother and tried to sooth her. 'Mama, it was a joke. I really don't mind doing any work for you and Papa. Please do not be upset at my careless words.' Margaret wondered at her mother's severe reaction. 'Are you unwell Mamma? I mean, you do not seem yourself..'

'I am perfectly well my dear. It is just these horrid east winds and the unrelenting grey skies. I miss the warmth of the sun. I miss Helstone.' Mrs Hale sighed.

Margaret in a teasing tone then said, 'But when you were in Helstone Mamma you missed London.' Margaret took her mother's hands and gave them a playful squeeze. Compared to her own small fingers Mrs Hale's seemed fragile and bony. 'Mamma, I have some news which may cheer you up. Aunt Shaw has invited me to stay with her for a month of the social season in London. Now I know Papa will not be interested, but do you think you would like to accompany me? I thought I might write to Aunt Shaw to suggest I also bring Fanny Thornton. It is her dearest wish to go to London. As well I thought it would please Papa to see me advance my friendship with Fanny.'

'That is a very charitable thought my dear. I think you should go ahead and write to your Aunt Shaw as planned. Only, do not accept the invitation on my behalf. As you know, I do not care to travel in the warmer weather. I should much prefer to stay here with your father.' Mrs Hale's voice caught in her throat as she said this.

'Are you sure Mamma. I would not want to leave you if you are in need of me.' Margaret tried to understand the sadness in her mother's eyes.

'No Margaret, I want you to go. With all of my heart. I will look forward to hearing all about the soirees, the clothes and the music.' Mrs Hale reached up to stroke Margaret's hair. 'Oh to be young and pretty again.'

'You are still young and pretty Mamma.' Margaret hugged her mother. She needed some way to raise her spirits. 'Mamma, do you remember how we would eat pears from the vine for dessert in Helstone? What if I go to the market now and purchase us the finest that Milton has to offer? I'm sure Papa would like that too. We could even eat them with our hands in the old way.'

'Thank you Margaret. I am particularly partial to fresh fruit of late. But send Dixon. She probably has other errands to run,' said Mrs Hale, still sensitive about Margaret taking on the tasks of a servant.

'No Mamma. I would like to go myself. You know how I like to walk.'

Margaret set out for the market carrying Dixon's weather beaten basket, wearing her favourite and very faithful straw hat. Even in her day clothes Margaret looked fetching. The healthy glow of her youthful skin, illuminated by the exercise, made her look every part the English rose. The heads of passers by would turn, but Margaret was not conscious of this. Her only thoughts were of her family, her mother in particular.

She certainly did not notice the boy, loitering in the lane. Barely fourteen, his face was covered in dirt, his clothes were soiled and his were feet bare. Margaret's small coin purse was visible in Dixon's basket. There were few others about.

Margaret suddenly heard the guttural outcry of man. Margaret turned to see a man in workers clothes, catch hold of the boy and wrench what looked to be her own coin purse from his hands. Margaret ran towards them, not sure what she was witnessing.

The man, holding on to the boy looked to Margaret and said, 'I believe this is yours miss. The young street rat just stole it. It should be all there miss. I don't think he had time to pocket any.'

'Let me go, she 'as it back!' The young boy struggled in the man's arms.

The man eyed him. 'Are you hungry boy?'

'What?'

Are you hungry? When was the last time ye ate?' He held the boy tight not easing his grip as he waited for an answer.

'I dunno, yesterday some time. I had luncheon with the Queen herself.' The boy looked flushed.

'If you can keep your hands out of pockets for the day you can eat with my kin this night. 9 Francis Street, just past the Goulden Dragon. Now get on with yo.' And with that he let the lad go.

Margaret still dazed by what had happened pulled a coin from her purse and offered it to the man who had just come to her aid.

Holding up his hand he said, 'No charge miss.'

Margaret smiled briefly and nodded, not wanting to insult the man by insisting he take it.

'You're not from around here are you miss? Otherwise yo' would know not to tempt the pick pockets by so careless placement of your purse.'

Margaret blushed. 'No I am from the south. I don't often have cause to carry coins. I was going to the market.' Margaret thought she sounded quite silly. 'My name is Margaret Hale. What is your name sir? I mean, who am I to be thanking for this service?'

The man smirked. 'It's Nicholas Higgins.' He turned to look behind him and beckoned a plain looking girl with a pale, sickly countenance. 'And this here is Bessy, my daughter.'

Margaret smiled and bowed her head at the girl. 'Mr Higgins, do you really mean to have that boy come to your home for dinner this evening? Does it not bother you that he is a common thief? What is he was to steal from you while he is in your province?'

Nicholas Higgins laughed. 'It is hard to steal from those who have little to take miss.' He looked in the direction that the boy ran off. 'I doubt he will come, but if he does I hope to influence him towards honest work for honest pay.'

Margaret had already begun to admire her new friend. 'Where do you work sir?'

At Hamper's mill. Bessy works at Marlborough.

Margaret's interest in Bessy was peaked by this revelation. 'Do you enjoy your work Bessy? Do you like working at Marlborough Mill?'

'Like is a strong word miss.' Bessy giggled. 'But the conditions are better.' Margaret couldn't help but notice Bessy wheeze as she spoke. 'Less fluff on my lungs on account of the wheel. I used to be at Hampers but my father moved me when I got sick.' Clearly fluff on the lung was irreversible.

'Well come along Bessy. I am sure we shall see this lady's bonny face again. She knows where we live.' Nicholas ushered Bessy along.

Margaret smiled and waved when Bessy looked back at her.


	5. Chapter 5

At 2 o'clock on Thursday afternoon, John finally heard a knock on the door to his office. Putting on his coat, he straightened his appearance. He had been watching the clock for most of the morning, particularly since noon. She had barely left his thoughts since Tuesday. He was a bundle of nerves and excitement at the prospect of her company. He would need to steady himself.

John mentally prepared himself as he opened the door. 'Mother,' John exclaimed, his carefully composed expression now collapsing.

'You were expecting someone else? Oh yes, you are expecting Miss Hale today.' Mrs Thornton pushed past John and sat down in his office. John followed her and returned to his seat.

'Yes Mother - as you well know. To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of your visit?'

'I received a note from Miss Hale this morning.'

John's heart sank.

'She wrote to tell me she would not be requiring the carriage I ordered for her.' Mrs Thornton looked displeased.

'She is still coming though?'

'Yes boy, she is still coming.' Mrs Thornton scoffed at her lovesick son. 'Open your eyes John. You are so infatuated you cannot see her for what she is. Ungrateful, willful..'

'Mother!' John cut her off in mid-sentence. 'Mother, I know you worry for me, but I am a grown man now. I can make my own judgments. I admire her spirit. Miss Hale is very independent and I see her refusal of the carriage as a reluctance to imposition her new friends rather than any slight on you, or me.'

'Yes, but..'

John dismissed his mother's commentary. 'Please, mother. Enough!' John stood and walked to the window to look out.

Mrs Thornton huffed and marched out of the office. John loved his mother, but she was far too protective of him at times. He did not enjoy chastising her, but he would not suffer her interference in matters which were not her concern.

Just then there was a quiet knock on the door.

'Yes?' John said distractedly.

'I'm sorry Mr Thornton, is this a bad time?' John turned and looked into a pair of beautiful grey eyes, their distress apparent at having interrupted his reverie.

'Not at all, Miss Hale.' John hastened to give her comfort. Meeting her at the door, he gave her a shy smile. His heart was soaring at the sight of her. Even dressed simply as she was today in a grey skirt and white linen blouse, she was breathtaking. Feeling as inept as he usually did in her presence he stammered a quick 'Shall we start?' before leading his guest into the mill.

He was not surprised by Margaret's wide eyed expression at the site of 200 carding machines, 60,000 mule spindles, 20 drawing frames, 50 slubbing frames and seventy one roving frames. He had to admit that he still felt awe-inspired by the sight himself at times. As they walked around the mill amid the peculiar stares and occasional smirks of the workers, John explained each machine's workings and the functions of the various groups of workers. Miss Hale did not ask many questions. She seemed engrossed by what she was seeing. He did however notice at one point her smile and wave to one of the female workers, almost as if she knew her. The worker however had quickly looked away.

Their tour ended in a quieter corner of the mill. Margaret looked thoughtful.

'So Miss Hale. How was your introduction to industry? Was it all you expected?' John was eager to hear her thoughts. Her opinions mattered to him.

'It is very.. impressive sir. Although I must confess that I had not really known what to expect. The machines are a technological marvel indeed.'

'But?'

'I'm sorry sir?'

'Miss Hale, I can see there is a but. What is it that you will not say?

'I am not an expert sir, it would be most unwise of me to make comment on things I know little of.' Margaret looked at her feet.

'Please, Miss Hale, tell me your opinions.' John was impatient to know the thoughts behind those soulful eyes. He could see she was hesitant.

With conviction, Margaret began to relay her thoughts. 'It is quite a dusty environment. I saw young children under machines collecting waste, breathing in the fluff and the dust, placing themselves in danger of becoming seriously ill. I wondered that they are not in school. ' Margaret continued. 'Some of your workers looked thin and tired. Surely their jobs could be dangerous in their condition. ' Margaret looked around her, her gaze settling on the female worker she had waved to earlier. 'Mr Thornton, I can see that you are not a tyrant, but do these things not concern you?'

John was taken aback. He was unsure at that moment what he had expected her to say. Perhaps some foolish part of him had hoped that she would be duly impressed by his empire and fall at his feet in adulation. He should have guessed that she would be critical of him. In her eyes he was still the uncaring capitalist, willing to grind his workers to make him rich and powerful.

'Of course they do Miss Hale. Do you really think that I wish ill on my workers? The children work here because their families cannot afford for them to do otherwise. They choose food on their tables over books. The dust I cannot help, it is an unfortunate bi-product of the process. I have installed a wheel to try to reduce it…'

'I know, my friend Bessy told me.'

'Your friend? You have friends amongst my workers Miss Hale?' John was battling against his temper at the injustice of her accusations.

'Yes the girl I waved to as we toured. She has fluff on the lung from her time at Hampers. Her father, Nicholas Higgins, sent her to work here when he realized she was ill.'

'Higgins, the unionist?' John was feeling more incensed by Miss Hales associations by the moment.

'I, I don't know. He came to my aid yesterday in the street. I had my purse stolen, he apprehended the thief and returned my money to me. He seems to be a man of integrity.'

'Yes, well perhaps you should re-consider walking the streets alone Miss Hale. And while you are at it, you may do well to re-consider the company you keep. Men like Higgins make unrealistic demands on their employers. They would sooner see Milton's mills go broke than back down. We saw that five years ago when they went out on strike. They put their ignorant, wayward heads together and thought that us Masters would stand for their tactics. That we would allow them to name their own price.' John looked at Margaret. She again was avoiding his gaze.

John walked a couple of paces to calm himself. 'They do not realize that without profits to compensate us for our wear and tear here in England, we will be forced to move off to other countries to produce. Where will their members be without our mills in Milton, I ask you?

'I admit I do not know Mr Higgins well, but he seems honorable. Have you tried talking to the union, sitting down and laying out your circumstances. Surely with shared understanding you could negotiate the best outcome for all? Perhaps there are other things you could be doing for your workers other than simply increasing their wages?'

'What would you suggest Miss Hale?' John said this more sharply than he intended.

'Sir, I can see I have upset you. I do not mean to insult you or your success. I am just concerned for the welfare of the people that work for you, and wonder about your moral duty…'

'Moral duty Miss Hale. What moral duty? I do not force them to work here? I pay them fairly for their labour. I am not their father, their brother or their keeper. I am their employer. What they do with their money, how they feed their family, is not my concern. My moral duty, as you put it Miss Hale, ends at ensuring the viability of Marlborough Mill.' John felt impassioned and completely ashamed at the same time. He was mortified at the turn of events this morning. He had high hopes that their time together would bridge the gap between them. Instead he had only managed to expose the even greater divide that existed between their philosophies on his workers and his responsibilities as Master of Marlborough Mill. John felt defeated.

John ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. 'I am sorry Miss Hale, I promise I will consider your words. Please can we part friends today. I would not want our difference of opinion just now to taint your visit with my sister.' John offered his hand in concession.

Reluctantly Margaret extended her own delicate fingers, placing them into the clutch of John's large, calloused palm. 'Thank you for your time, sir. I know you are busy. It really has been very informative.' She bowed her head in her usual graceful manner before departing for the house.

John watched her go, feeling miserable. He wondered if he would ever find common ground with this inimitable woman. At almost the last moment, she turned and surprised him by returning to where she left him standing.

'Mr Thornton, I almost forgot to ask you something important.' Margaret looked at her feet as she spoke, her expression unreadable. John hung on to every word. 'My Aunt has invited me to go and stay with her in her house at Harley Street in London for a month of the social season. I am not particularly inclined towards parties and social calls myself, but I thought that perhaps Fanny would enjoy the experience. I would invite your mother as well, but Fanny has told me that she is not fond of London. '

John's hopes lifted that all was not lost between them. 'When do you plan to travel Miss Hale?'

'In two weeks Mr Thornton. I was wondering whether I should speak to Fanny today, during my visit?'

'No, I will discuss it with my mother first. Thank you for your kind consideration of my sister.'

Once again Margaret bowed her head and left for the house.


	6. Chapter 6

Margaret walked cautiously through the narrow laneway. There was washing hanging in make-do lines in her path, their creators hoping in vain that the clothes would dry in the cold, dampness of the Milton township. Margaret noted that there seemed to be too many houses crammed into a small space in this neighbourhood. In the distance Margaret heard a baby crying. In the other direction there seemed to be a couple arguing. Keeping her eyes and ears open to her surroundings, Margaret searched for number 9. Finding her target, she knocked.

In time the door was opened by a shy girl, plain and a little stout. Margaret smiled. 'I am looking for Bessy Higgins. Is she here?'

The door opened further to reveal Bessy's smiling face. 'Hello stranger. I told my father you would come to see me. Come in, come in.'

'I brought a basket. I was not sure it would be welcomed, but where I come from it is customary to bring something.' Margaret entered the house. It was dark inside but spotlessly clean. It was clear to Margaret that although the family were poor, they lived with dignity and self-respect.

'Thank you Miss Hale.' The younger girl who had earlier opened the door eagerly took the basket and began to unpack the groceries Margaret had brought. Bessy invited her to take a seat in their small kitchen while she prepared tea.

'Call me Margaret, Bessy.' Margaret looked over at the other girl.

'Excuse me Margaret. This is my sister, Mary. Mary, this is Margaret the lady Father and I met in the street.'

'Where is your father today Bessy?'

'He is meeting with..' Bessy stopped mid sentence.

'You are worried because you saw me with Mr Thornton yesterday.' Margaret figured that Nicholas was meeting with other union members. 'I know that your father is a member of the union.'

'You are well acquainted with the Master?' Bessy enquired.

'My father is his tutor and his sister is my..friend. Mr Thornton offered to take me on a tour of the mill so that I could learn more about Milton industry.' Margaret still felt uneasy about her conduct that day. She should know better than to be so frank. But she couldn't help feeling that Mr Thornton could make a difference if he could only be convinced of the power he had to change their conditions.

'He is very taken with you. None of us have ever seen him so interested in someone before. He could barely take his eyes off you,' Bessy teased.

'Stop it Bessy,' Margaret laughed. 'He couldn't be. Every word that leaves my mouth angers him. We almost never agree on any topic of importance. No, I am sure you are wrong.' Margaret had not considered that Mr Thornton would ever think of her in that way.

'But yo' do think him handsome, do yo' not? Nearly every girl in Milton has her eye on him. Not that he e'er seems to give them a second glance from what we can tell. Too married to the mill is he. Works all kinds of hours.' Bessy poured them both a cup and sat down.

'What is he like to work for Bessy? Is he a good Master?'

'He is fair. There is rarely a cross word from him except when someone deserves it. But he is a Master so I am unlikely to ever know him well.'

Bessy's words seemed to illustrate the gulf that Margaret had identified existed between Master and worker at the mill. It was exactly the point she was trying to make to Mr Thornton. How could either party's interests advance when they did not know one another well or understand each other?

At that moment the door opened and Nicholas Higgins walked through. Margaret considered him for a moment. A goliath of a man, Margaret could see that he carried the weight of many on his shoulders.

'Hoo said you would come.' Nicholas greeted Margaret with a smile.

'How are you Nicholas.? I hope you do not mind my intrusion. When I saw Bessy again at Marlborough Mills I felt compelled to renew our acquaintance.'

'Ye are welcome. We don't often share acquaintances with the likes of the Thorntons.' There was scorn in Nicholas' voice but Margaret felt sure it was not aimed at her.

'Yes I was just telling Bessy that my father is Mr Thornton's tutor.' Margaret thought for a moment before adding 'Mr Thornton seemed to be acquainted with you Nicholas.'

'Yes, we have crossed paths before.' Nicholas looked at Margaret. 'I suppose he told ye that I am a union man?'

'Yes he did.'

'And where do your allegiances sit miss?' Nicholas sat and crossed his arms.

Margaret was more than ready for his challenge. 'On the side of what is right and good in the eyes of God. I do not see that I should have to take the side of a union or a Master.'

'Ye are naïve if you think that Masters will ever think like that Miss. They care only about their profits. Ney it is a war Miss Margaret. That will never change.'

'But what if one of the Masters was prepared to sit down and talk. To come to the table with good intentions and to be open in their discourse. Surely there would be no need to strike. Surely things could be worked through in other ways.'

'But they hold all the power miss. Only when we workers join together do we hold the power. Only when we walk out as one, in union, can we force their hand. We failed last time, but we will not fail again.'

Margaret was startled by this admission. 'There is going to be another strike?'

Nicholas looked at Bessy. 'It thought hoo must have told you. We have not set the date, but the time will come if we do not receive a response to our requests for pay increases soon. They have until the end of the month. I do not think this will come as a surprise to the Masters so you may say what you like to your _friend_.'

'Nicholas, have you considered that the mills are unable to carry the expense of higher wages?'

'Lies, Miss Margaret. You have been taken in by their lies. Trade has been good for a long time. They have orders flowing through, under contract. They have made no end of money. It is only fair that we get our share,' Nicholas said with contempt.

'Nicholas, have you ever considered asking for something other than wages? Are there not other ways that the Masters could improve the lot of the workers without costing them as much as an across the board wage increase.'

Nicholas was intrigued by this young woman's gumption. He didn't think he had ever encountered a lady show interest in such matters. 'What do you mean Miss Margaret?'

'I'm not sure Nicholas. I just know that I see poverty and starvation. I see children working in terrible conditions when they should be in school learning how to give themselves a better future. I just question whether handing out money is the only answer, particularly to some people who could not be saved from themselves even if they were as rich as King Solomon.'

Nicholas laughed. 'I suppose there is truth in that.'

At that point Bessy began to cough. Gasping for air she reached out for her father. Margaret felt distressed, not knowing what to do. Nicholas saw Margaret's alarm.

'Do not fret lass, it will pass soon. It just scares her.'

As the spasm eased, Bessy went to lay on the bed, spent by the physical assault of her coughing fit. Margaret went to sit by her side and took her hand. 'I will leave you now to rest, my friend. I am going away next week for a month to my Aunt's but I will visit as soon as I return.'

'If I have gone to meet my maker Margaret, I thank ye for your friendship. Yo have brought light into my day. You have made me feel special.'

Margaret looked to Nicholas, hoping for him to contradict what she had just heard. He shook his head.

Margaret was shocked. She could tell that Bessy was sick but had not realised the gravity of her illness.

'You must still be here Bessy. I shall not forgive you if you are not.' Margaret gave her hands a squeeze and smoothed back a stray piece of Bessy's hair before seeing herself out.

Margaret shed a tear for her new friend as she walked home. Although Margaret had only just met her, she felt like they had always been friends. Margaret knew in her heart that God had selected her to be there for Bessy in her final days. It was unfortunate that Margaret was now leaving on Tuesday for London. She would write to Bessy she thought.

A fever caught hold of Bessy that night. She died two days later.


	7. Chapter 7

'Margaret. Margaret. Margaret!' Fanny was waving her hands in front of Margaret's eyes. 'Where were you just now? I am certain you have not heard a word I said for the last five minutes.' Fanny took another bite of her cake. 'What is the matter today? You have not said two words together. Personally, I don't understand how you can be downcast when tomorrow we are off to London. I am utterly beside myself with excitement!'

Margaret smiled at Fanny. She had grown quite fond of the girl, despite her tendency to be somewhat brash and dramatic at times. 'I am a little distracted today Fanny. I am worried about my mother. She suffers from low spirits at times and I wish that she would come to London with us. I think it would be good for her. But she insists on staying here with Papa.' Margaret refreshed her tea cup. 'I also lost a friend a couple of days ago. Her name was Bessy and she was only nineteen. She was actually a worker in your brother's mill. She died from a lung condition related to the fluff and dust she breathed in as a child at Hampers mill.'

'You are friends with the workers Margaret?'

'Fanny!' admonished Margaret. 'Is that really all you took from what I said? A young woman nearly our own age has died because of the unhealthy working conditions that still exist in some of Milton's mills. Does that not bother you?'

'Forgive me Margaret.' Fanny seemed sincere. 'But I have never given the workers much thought. I am sorry for your loss, really.'

Margaret thought she would change the conversation. 'Has your mother decided how long she will stay in London after she chaperones us tomorrow? We really should encourage her to experience some of the delights that town has to offer.'

'Of Margaret, didn't I tell you? John is going to take us to London, not my mother. He says he has business to attend to so has volunteered to take mother's place.'

'No you did not tell me Fanny.' Margaret picked up her cup and thoughtfully sipped her tea.

* * *

'Ah, there is Mr Thornton.' Mr Hale indicated further down the platform. Margaret recognised him standing talking to a very elegant man. An attractive young woman was holding on to Mr Thornton's arm looking up at him dotingly from time to time.

Margaret felt a sudden hot flush creep up her neck. Fanny had not mentioned that Mr Thornton was courting anyone.

Mr Hale waved. Margaret saw Mr Thornton quickly excuse himself and make his way toward them.

'Mr Hale.' The young Master grasped the old parson's hand gingerly, appearing glad to see him. Turning to Margaret he tipped his hat and softly said in his deep baritone, 'Miss Hale. I trust your trunk is already checked in?'

Margaret nodded. She felt nervous seeing him today. Their tour of Marlborough mill had not ended well. Since that day they had only exchanged polite greetings in passing at Crampton as Mr Thornton arrived for his lesson with her father. Examining his expression now, Margaret did not sense that Mr Thornton harbored any ill will towards her for her guileless judgment of the conditions in his mill. Still she would not risk vexing him again by raising the topic of his workers, for today at least.

'Where is Fanny, sir?' Margaret asked, looking around for her travelling companion.

'Already seated in the carriage Miss Hale. She said she needed to sit down - the heat you know.' Mr Thornton grinned, sending a knowing glance to Margaret.

'Well, enjoy your trip my dear,' said Mr Hale. 'I am sure you will want to join Fanny now.'

'Thank you Papa. I will. Please take good care of Mamma for me. I will write to you both to tell you we arrived safely.' Margaret and her father embraced.

'Good-bye John. Thank you for looking after Margaret in this way.'

'It is my pleasure sir. I am sorry I will miss our lesson this evening, but I will visit Crampton next Tuesday when I have returned from London. Good-bye. '

Mr Hale turned away from the platform.

Mr Thornton gestured for Margaret to walk with him to their awaiting train carriage.

'Are you looking forward to your visit to London Miss Hale?'

As Mr Thornton asked this, Margaret could see Fanny waving out of the train compartment window. 'It would seem that Fanny is.' Margaret laughed and waved back.

Mr Thornton opened the door and helped her board. Margaret took her place next to Fanny, whilst Mr Thornton sat in the seat facing them. Shortly after a cloud of steam rose up outside of the carriage and the train started rolling, beginning its journey to the capital.

In such close quarters, Margaret could smell Mr Thornton's cologne, its heady scent somehow perfectly matching its very masculine owner. Margaret wondered at herself for noticing this about him.

'Oh Margaret, I am excited,' said Fanny. 'Finally I am going to see London. Oh the parties, the dresses! You know Mamma only let me buy three new gowns. I told her that I would need an entirely new wardrobe if I was to be respectable in London..'

'Come now Fanny,' said Margaret. 'I am sure everything you have will be suitable. I'm sure if there is anything you really need, we will find it in the stores in London.'

'Oh yes, Margaret, please can we shop? Oh, to have a real gown from London.' Fanny was enthralled.

'Only if Mr Thornton agrees to meet your expenses?' Margaret looked towards the wealthy mill owner, his handsome face looking affectionately at his sister.

'Thank you very much Miss Hale for my commitment in all of this. You know I shall blame you if I have to file for bankruptcy as a result of Fanny's spending.' Mr Thornton was laughing as he said this, his blue eyes dazzling in his lightly tanned face.

Margaret decided she liked this lighter side of Mr Thornton. Their discussions up until now had always tended towards more sober matters. It was no wonder she rarely saw his smile - which she liked, very much. 'I promise you Mr Thornton that you can rely upon me to guard her spending like it was my own money. We shall be prudent, shan't we Fanny?'

Fanny gave Margaret a mischievous look. Margaret shook her head in amusement.

Fanny was silent for a moment before a look of trepidation suddenly passed over her pretty face. 'Margaret, how should I act while I am in London? I mean, how shall I know what to say or what to do while I am in the company of all the fine ladies?'

Having lived in Milton most of her life, her brother one of the most respected businessmen in the town, Fanny was afforded respect and regard wherever she went. Margaret could see that she was starting to realise that in London she would not be favoured so readily.

Margaret considered Fanny's question before answering. 'First and foremost Fanny, modesty is considered a virtue. When in company it is important to govern yourself cautiously.' Margaret smiled kindly at the younger girl's uncertainty and continued. 'In conversation, always try to listen more than you speak. Speak only in your turn, and when you do speak, try to ask thoughtful questions.' Margaret looked at Mr Thornton to find he was staring intently at her. She quickly averted her eyes back to Fanny.

'When you are introduced to a gentleman, never offer your hand.' Margaret blushed, remembering the first time that Mr Thornton had tried to shake her hand. Margaret had not understood that it was a custom in Milton and she had turned away. She felt ashamed at having insulted him in that way. Margaret chanced another glance at Mr Thornton to find a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. 'Just bow your head politely Fanny and say 'I am happy to make your acquaintance.''

'Oh how am I to remember all that Margaret. I just know I will shame you in some manner,' Fanny whimpered.

'I am sure that is not true Fanny. If you are uncertain, just look to my Aunt or to myself. Let our behaviour be your guide.' Margaret paused then for a moment, trying to find the words to most delicately make her next point. 'Fanny, while we are on the subject, there is something else I wanted to speak to you about. London people will not be used to your Northern brogue and may find it.. unusual at first. It may be best when addressing new company that you also try to use your most gentle and subdued tone, at least until they become accustomed to it. Do you understand what I am saying?'

'I think so Margaret. Perhaps you would coach me?' she asked hopefully.

'I will do my best Fanny. But please do not worry too much. I am sure you will make many new friends in London.'

'Fanny you are in capable hands with Miss Hale to advise you.' Margaret felt the admiration in his soft, deep voice. She lifted her eyes and saw a hint of wonder in his expression.

'John, don't you think that it would be fitting that seeing as Margaret and I have become good friends that you should start calling her Margaret. I mean it sounds so stiff and proper when you call her Miss Hale,' scolded Fanny.

'Well I don't know Fanny. How does Miss Hale feel about that?' John said teasingly.

Margaret's heart raced at the thought of being on such intimate terms with the Master or Marlborough Mill, her father's student. Bessy's comments to her that last afternoon went racing through her mind. Could Mr Thornton, John, think of her in a romantic way? And what about the young lady who had possessively held on to his arm at the train station?

Tearing her gaze away from Mr Thornton's face, Margaret felt disoriented. 'I have no objection, if Mr Thornton doesn't.' Margaret could again feel the warmth in her cheeks.

Oblivious to the undercurrents of feeling that were passing between her two companions, Fanny looked very pleased with her situation. She began humming merrily as she watched the scenery roll by her window.


	8. Chapter 8

John watched as his sister's eyes closed, her mouth wide open as she leaned against the window of the train car. It reminded him of when they were children, when they were still a complete family. Whenever they would travel in a carriage, Fanny would almost always surrender herself to the rhythm of its movement and fall asleep. Most of the time leaning against him..

His eyes moved to Margaret. She smiled warmly at him. His heart did a flip. He shuffled nervously in his chair, searching for something to say. His palms were sweating.

She saved him. 'Thank you John for accompanying us today.' His heart flipped again at the sound of his name on her lips. 'I am of course sorry that we were deprived of your Mother's company. Although Fanny leads me to believe that Mrs Thornton does not like town.'

John chuckled at the subject of his mother and London. When he had first raised the idea of Fanny going with Margaret, his mother had been less than receptive. John had finally convinced Mrs Thornton that it would save her the trial of ever having to take Fanny herself, so she had reluctantly agreed to the plan. 'Yes that is true. I must say she was quite happy to yield the responsibility to me when I said I had business with Mr Latimer in London.'

'Mr Latimer?' Margaret asked. John noted that there was a look of concentration on her face like she was trying to piece together a puzzle in her mind.

'Yes, he is my banker and very important to my business. You may have seen me with him and his daughter on the platform. He has invited me to town to talk to some potential investors.' John eyed Margaret's continued evaluation of his response. He wondered what thoughts occupied her. She had a tiny crinkle between her brows.

'Investors? Do you need investors sir?' Margaret said, sounding alarmed. 'I mean, it's just that I was under the impression that business was good. That orders were flowing in?'

'I would wager that is how your friend Higgins sees it.' John saw in Margaret's expression that he had guessed correctly. He decided to put her at ease. He liked that she was interested in the mill and he was determined that they would not quarrel today. 'A good deal of my capital is locked up in new and expensive machinery. It is true, we do have lots of orders but to fulfill them I need to buy large amounts of cotton. This constant drain on expenses makes investment necessary, especially when it is difficult to get timely payment from customers facing similar challenges.' John could see Margaret considering his words, the small crinkle appearing again in her brow. 'And, if there is to be a strike,' John guessed she knew about that as well, 'there will be additional pressure placed on our ability to fulfill the contracts we have.'

'What if you were to explain this to the union? Like you have for me just now? With shared understanding, couldn't a strike be avoided?' Margaret's passion was evident in her earnest face.

'Margaret, there is no reasoning with those ungrateful blaggards in the union. Their ignorant minds can only think of money. They are not interested in business.' John was not happy that their conversation was heading into contentious territory once again. Yet in a strange way these debates with Margaret were invigorating and thought provoking. She challenged him to do better, be better, and he liked that.

'I think that is grossly unfair, John. I believe that many unionists are steady thoughtful men; good citizens, who uphold order. Indeed they may be uneducated, but they care about issues beyond their own situations. They are fighting for a better life for all. I just think that they have become desperate in crisis. They see their families starving while food continues to increase in price. And even when they do have money to spend, quality food is scarce.' Margaret looked at John, directing her point straight at his conscience. 'How many of your workers go without food so that their children can eat? How many watch their children die as they cannot afford medical care? How many of your workers can read or write?' Margaret looked down at her hands that were trembling slightly at her impassioned outburst and said more solemnly, 'When you can answer those questions for me Mr Thornton, I think you are qualified to cast judgment on the union.'

John felt humbled. She had argued well. 'But if what you say is true Margaret, any amount of argument we Masters make regarding our economic struggles will fall on unsympathetic ears. We will still find ourselves at an impass with the union. The workers say they cannot afford to live on the wages we provide. But we masters cannot afford to pay them what they say they need.' John felt frustrated by the futility of the situation. 'What would you propose we do?' John searched her face for signs that she did not despise him and understood his impossible position.

Margaret paused to consider her words. 'Start with the basics. I have not made exact calculations, but what would it cost to provide the workers a hot meal once a day? Or a teacher for their children? – at least to help them learn to read and write. Or a doctor when one of them is ill? I am not proposing you implement all or any of these schemes. I am only suggesting that you will never know what can be achieved to the mutual benefit of the mill and its people unless you sit down and talk to the union with good will.'

John pondered Margaret's words. It was clear she had given it some thought since her tour of the mill. He still felt a gnawing doubt that the union would ever trust the word of a Master or vice versa. He faltered at the thought of presenting such an unconventional suggestion to his peers. But he had to admit it had merit; and if it prevented a strike or at least bide them time….'I will give it further thought Margaret. I promise.'

'That is all I can ask of you John. I am sorry for my outspokenness, but I feel strongly that I am right. I know that progress will only be made if the right people pave the way. I am confident that you and Nicholas can overcome your differences if you are open and frank and talk together man to man rather than master to servant.' Margaret shook her head suddenly. 'Oh you must think me quarrelsome and opinionated. I promised myself so faithfully that I would not lecture you today.'

'Not at all Margaret. I just don't think I have ever met anyone that thinks like you do. You will need to excuse me if I cannot keep up with you at times.' John laughed at himself. Her sophistication and intellect was astounding, especially for a young woman of one and twenty.

John thought about Margaret's regard for Nicholas Higgins. She obviously could see qualities that he had not observed. 'I was sorry to hear about your friend Bessy, Margaret.'

'Thank you John. I did not know her long or well, but I should have liked to.'

Time for lighter conversation thought John. 'I believe from Fanny, that you have spent a good deal of your life in London. I imagine this visit will be like going home?' John asked, curious as to where her heart lay.

'Yes, and no,' she smiled shyly. 'It is true that I did call Harley Street my home for most of the last ten years. My Mother felt that it would be better for me to have the advantages that my Aunt Shaw could provide. Aunt Shaw has been kind and generous in a motherly way. I am sure she counts me almost as her own. I adore my cousin Edith who has been more like a sister than I could have ever expected. Edith is lately married you know, so will not be in London. I would so like for Fanny to meet her one-day. I am sure they would get on famously.'

John watched as Margaret fondly glanced over at Fanny who was soundly sleeping. 'Did you not see your mother and father often during your time at Harley Street, Margaret?' He wondered at how a child who loved their parents as much as Margaret did could have borne the separation.

'I would go home for the holidays. I relished my role as the only daughter in the Helstone parsonage.' Margaret's face broke into a grin. 'I loved the occupation it provided. I would rise early and have breakfast with my parents, and then go out on visits with Papa. We would walk to the _very extremity of the parish_ – the walks were so beautiful. It always seemed to be sunny – although I know that to be impossible for it must have rained at times. I remember theforest, and the yellow roses that grew by the house. Just the aroma of them can bring back all manner of happy memories.'

John noted how animated her beautiful face had become speaking of her beloved Helstone.

Margaret checked herself. 'I am sorry John, if I am prone to long speeches. Some would suggest I take after my father. But as you can tell, I think Helston to be the best place in the world.'

'Do not apologise Margaret. Your account makes me long to see it for myself one day.' John started to imagine himself strolling arm and arm with Margaret across the green fields; their children running behind them joyously, basking in the sunshine. John wrestled himself out of his daydream and cleared his throat. 'Do you think you could ever be happy living somewhere else Margaret? Do you think you could ever be happy in Milton?' John hoped she would not hear in his voice how much he needed to know her response.

'Location is just geography John. Happiness is a matter of the heart for me. So long as I am with my family, the people I love, then I will be content.' There was sincerity in her tone.

John looked at the glorious woman sitting across from him. He could not imagine feeling this kind of connection with anyone else. The more time he spent with Margaret, the more attached he became. Their debates and disagreements only intensified his interest in her. Her mind captivated him. Her beauty dazzled him. She had bewitched him and he would never be the same man.

When the train finally came to a halt in London a weary Fanny opened her eyes. 'We're here,' she said sleepily.

'Yes, we are here Fanny. You missed nearly half the journey I'm sure,' laughed Margaret. 'I am glad your brother was here to entertain me.'

'Oh Margaret, I am so sorry to have left you to John's tedious conversation.' Fanny gave her brother a playful poke with her finger.

The ride to Harley Street was made with continued congeniality between the occupants of the shiny new horse drawn carriage. Spirits were high: Fanny's from the fulfillment of a childhood dream of going to London; John and Margaret from the realisation of a deepening friendship between them. When the carriage stopped, John quickly alighted to assist the ladies from the carriage. Fanny went first, her attention immediately absorbed by the sight of the building before her. Margaret took John's hand next. As she climbed from the carriage their faces were only inches apart. John felt overwhelmed by their proximity, frozen in his spot. She smiled shyly as she stepped down, and the moment was over. John turned now to see the house that Margaret had grown up in.

It was the handsomest in a row of Georgian terraced houses. John counted four storeys plus basement and attic. The detailing and proportions were impressive. The ironwork, made up of intricate geometric designs, helped distinguish it from its companions in the row.

The party made their way up the stairs, past the pattern of railing to the massive front door painted bottle green. It was opened by the Chief Butler, Thomas. He recognised Margaret immediately with a welcoming smile. They were shown to a drawing room, more splendid than anything that John or Fanny had ever seen. And no doubt very expensive, thought John. Mrs Shaw must be quite rich.

As if on cue, Mrs Shaw came into the drawing room and embraced her niece. A stately lady, she had an air of importance that warned she was not to be trifled with. Not surprisingly, Margaret was quick to make introductions. 'Aunt, may I present Fanny Thornton who will be staying with us for the next month, and her brother Mr Thornton who has kindly chaperoned our trip today.'

Mrs Shaw's curiosity was immediately piqued by her unexpected guest. 'Mr Thornton, I believe I was expecting your mother to stay with us before her return to Milton. Was she not able to make the trip?' Mrs Shaw wondered about the change in arrangement.

'I beg your pardon Mrs Shaw but there was no time to write. I have business in London that I must attend to, so I offered to go in my mother's place. I would not however wish to be an imposition. I will find lodging elsewhere.'

'There is no need for that sir. You are indeed welcome to stay here. How long do you plan to visit with us may I ask?'

'Just two days, madam. I had planned to leave tomorrow, but I have since learnt this morning that we have all been invited to the Bankers Ball tomorrow evening in the assembly rooms in St James' Street. If this is convenient Mrs Shaw? My own banker has also come to town and is enthusiastic that my sister and I attend.'

John heard Fanny's excited gasp at this news of the ball.

'My niece tells me you are in cotton, sir? How does this bring you to London?' Mrs Shaw enquired unabashedly.

'My banker has located some investors looking to get into cotton. I have come to town to meet with them and to discuss my plans for expansion. Indeed I am due for a meeting in half an hour,' John said apologetically.

'Well we should not delay you further sir. Thomas will show you to your room and then you can be on your way.' Thomas appeared at Mrs Shaw's words 'The ladies may rest while you are gone. Will you be back in time for dinner? I have invited some old acquaintances who are eager to see Margaret again.'

'Yes Madam, I will be back in time for dinner, thank you.' John turned to his sister and Margaret and bowed, his gaze lingering momentarily on the latter.


	9. Chapter 9

After several hours of tolerating cigar smoke and drunken, boorish tales of exaggerated exploits and one-upmanship, John finally excused himself from the small gathering in the gentleman's club in St James Street. He promised to join them again tomorrow when he would detail his proposal for expansion – and when they were all sober he thought to himself.

Mr Latimer walked him out. 'What is so important my boy that you need to leave already? Are you sure you can't stay for another drink?' Mr Latimer gave John a slap on the back.

'I am sorry sir. But I am obliged to dine with my sister's host this evening. In any case, I think it is best if I keep a clear head for tomorrow.' John shook Mr Latimer's hand.

'Don't forget John that my daughter Ann is counting on your company for lunch tomorrow after we meet with the investors. You would not want to disappoint her would you my boy?' There was a subtle hint of warning in Mr Latimer's voice.

'Certainly not, sir. I will look forward to it.' John was not sure that he liked Ann Latimer. He was sure most gentlemen would consider her beautiful, but his instinct told him her beauty was only skin deep. Her attentions were occupied by what was fashionable in the moment or what would best serve her own interests. He did not like her sarcastic remarks, and her extravagant tastes told him that she covets a life of luxury. John was concerned that Mr Latimer seemed to be encouraging their connection. He would need to be cautious in his treatment of Miss Latimer.

As John walked towards Harley Street, an excitement he had held at bay all afternoon engulfed him. Tonight he would dine with Margaret and meet some of her friends. He would sleep under the same roof.

Now knowing the lavish and elegant surroundings that Margaret was raised in, it was easy to explain her superiority of manner. But the superiority of her soul most certainly came from another source entirely. Whilst some might argue she had a privileged childhood, John could see that she had also endured her share of sadness. He could not imagine being separated from his parents, his mother, for long stretches of time as a child. But Margaret was brave and forgiving as a result. Her heart was full of compassion despite her haughty exterior.

Just before he reached number 96 Harley St, he spotted a flower lady. Stooped over and far too old to be still on the streets selling her wares, she was packing up her cart for the day. 'How much for the bunch of daisies?' he asked.

'A shilling sir,' she rasped back.

John raised his eyebrows but gave her the coin. He then spied a single flower and pointed to it. 'And that?'

'You may have that for free sir, on account of you being such a good customer to old Maisie.' She gave John a toothless smile.

He took the extra flower and tossed her a halfpenny.

He heard her cackling laughter as he continued on his way.

Arriving at Harley Street he could smell the aroma of the dinner preparations. He realised how hungry he was and hoped he was not running late. The Chief Butler opened the door – but this time with a stern expression. Evidently the Butler's smiles were reserved for a certain young lady.

As he entered the foyer Margaret was coming down the staircase with Fanny. John could hardly breath as he watched her descend, regal and resplendent. He had never seen her dressed like that before, yet in her present surroundings it seemed entirely fitting that she should dress like that every day. Her raven hair was perfectly coiffed. Her silver gown moulded her figure, defining her feminine form all the way to her waist before it flourished away. John's mouth went dry as he looked upon the smooth ivory flesh of her shoulders for the first time.

He was woken from his trance by Fanny's voice. 'What do you have there behind your back John?'

It took John a moment to process what Fanny had asked. Recovering he said, 'Daisies. They're for you Fanny. I thought maybe you could put them in your room to help you feel less homesick.'

'Thank you John, that was very thoughtful of you.' Fanny was practicing her sober, gentle tones. She put the flowers to her nose to smell before disappearing to seek out the housemaid for a vase.' Her attempts at being the graceful lady of the house made John smile.

John then turned to Margaret who had been sharing in his amusement. 'And this is for you.' He held out the single yellow rose. 'Here is to many new memories Margaret.' He hoped she understood his meaning and what he was feeling. He searched her face for some sign that she felt it too.

'We have guests coming Mr Thornton and you are not dressed. Away with you now sir and ready yourself. Margaret, where is Fanny?' Mrs Shaw was rushing about the house finalising preparations for dinner.

John excused himself with a last meaningful look at Margaret. He glanced back as he climbed the stairs. She was standing in the same spot, paused in thought, the rose resting against her cheek.

With the time he had, John took particular care with his own attire. He had brought his evening best with him. He knew that he could never compete with the elegant London fellows as far as fashion was concerned. Nor was he particularly interested in competing. But he also did not want to appear unworthy of Margaret's attentions by appearing common or uncouth.

When he was satisfied that his unruly hair was neat and his cravat straight he made his way down to dinner.

John could hear the voices of the guests as they assembled in the parlor. As he entered he searched for the lady in the silver gown. She was not visible at first. Surveying the room carefully he finally located her standing in the shadows of the corner, absorbed in conversation with an intelligent looking young man. John estimated him to be mid way through his twenties. Margaret was looking at the man with sympathy. He appeared to be pleading his case.

Mrs Shaw took John by the arm. 'Ah Mr Thornton, let me introduce you to some of our guests. Mr Thornton, this is Dr and Mrs Martin. They live a few doors down. This distinguished gentleman here is Sir William Cavendish, a dear friend of my late husband. This is Mr and Mrs de Walden and their son Samuel, and Margaret there is talking to Mr Henry Lennox. Henry is my son-in-law's brother. He and Margaret became very close before she left. I am sure they are both most anxious to reacquaint so we shan't disturb them now with introductions.'

John took one of the proffered glasses of wine and engaged in conversation with Mrs Shaw's friends. Sir William Cavendish was a talkative companion, eager to share his war stories with someone who had not heard them before. John welcomed his monologuing. It gave him time to observe the other occupants in the room.

Before long Thomas arrived at the doorway to announce that dinner was served. As John excused himself from Sir William, he noticed Henry Lennox offer Margaret his arm. She smiled warmly at him and allowed him to guide her from the room. John went in search of Fanny but found she had also already been collected by Mr and Mrs de Walden's son. John made his way to dinner alone.

It was a sumptuous feast of oysters and soup, followed by juicy morsels of beef and venison. Each person had been allocated a seat, indicated by cards on the table beautifully printed in silk. John had been seated next to Sir William Cavendish at one end of the dinner table and had politely endured more of his stories. Margaret and Mr Lennox had been purposefully placed at the other end. Cheese and coffee were served before, as was customary, the ladies moved to the parlor whilst the men stayed at the table.

Not a man to hide from confrontation, John once again excused himself from Sir William and made his way over to introduce himself to Margaret's friend.

'Mr Lennox,' John offered his hand, 'my name is…'

'John Thornton. Yes I know. Margaret told me about you.' Henry shook John's hand with a limp, disinterested gesture. John felt a handshake said a lot about a person and Mr Lennox's left a lot to be desired. 'I believe I have you to thank Mr Thornton for getting Margaret here safely. I would have come for her myself except my law practice has been very demanding of late.'

What was he implying? John wondered. Did he mean to suggest that he had an understanding with Margaret? John had never heard of this man until today. Surely if he was of significance in Margaret's life the family would have spoken of him before.

'I believe you are related to Margaret's cousin Edith,' said John looking to get clarity on the relationship.

'Yes, she is my brother's wife. Margaret and I spent a good deal of time together leading up to their wedding. I am sure I could not have withstood all the fuss and nonsense without her. I confess I have missed her terribly since she has moved to the North.' Mr Lennox took a sip of his cognac. 'In fact the sooner we can marry and Margaret can come back to London, the better.'

John felt a knot tie in his chest. 'Margaret did not mention that you were engaged.'

'Well, we are not engaged, yet. But the day is not far. I am to be made a partner in my law firm by Michelmas. We are planning a Christmas wedding here in London. Edith and my brother will return in the new year so altogether we shall be a cosy group.' Mr Lennox smiled in smug satisfaction.

John felt like he was drowning. His breathing constricted. This all resembled a nightmare. What of Margaret's feelings on the matter? Surely she must have seen his own growing regard for her. Why would she not tell him of an impending engagement, or at least have told Fanny?

John did his best to participate in the general conversation but he was impatient to rejoin the ladies so that he could speak with Margaret. He needed to hear from her own lips how she felt about Mr Lennox. Did she want to marry him? One word of confirmation from her and John would walk away.

After what seemed like an age to John, the gentlemen filed into the parlour. Henry Lennox moved swiftly to Margaret's side, leaning forward to whisper something in her ear. She laughed, clearly enjoying the intimacy of their relationship. John could only stand back and watch in seething jealousy.

Mrs Shaw approached him. 'They make a fine couple do they not?' She ushered John to the corner of the room. 'You must excuse me if I speak plainly young man. I can see your regard for Margaret. But she is young and inexperienced in matters of the heart. She sees you as the trusted brother of her friend, or her father's student. She does not realise that you care for her in any other way.' John was confused, trying to reconcile in his mind the moments he had with Margaret earlier today with what Mrs Shaw was saying. 'But, I think you should know, it is likely that Margaret and Henry will soon be married. It would be unwise for you to continue in your pursuit of her. As you can see, she is well suited to London life. I mean this only as a kindness Mr Thornton. She belongs here. She belongs with Henry.'

John looked at Mrs Shaw before returning his gaze to Margaret. She looked radiant. Perhaps this Lennox fellow did make her happy. And who could blame her if she preferred him to John? Compared to Henry Lennox, John was but a rough fellow from the North, without grace and refinement. Her aunt was probably right. Margaret looked at ease here. A cold and smoky industrial town certainly wasn't fitting for a lady like her.

'Thank you Mrs Shaw, for your hospitality this evening. I have some early meetings tomorrow. If you will excuse me, I think I will retire for the evening.'

'Of course Mr Thornton. I understand,' said Mrs Shaw kindly.

Henry Lennox caught Mrs Shaw's eye and smiled knowingly as Mr Thornton left the room.


	10. Chapter 10

Margaret examined herself in the mirror. She did not consider herself particularly vain, but she had to admit that this gown suited her well. She had instructed the chambermaid to place red roses of the same shade as her dress into her hair. She could smell their perfume.

Margaret felt giddy at the prospect of seeing and maybe even dancing with Mr Thornton at the ball tonight. She had been disappointed that she did not have the opportunity to speak with him after dinner last night. Aunt Shaw said that he had retired early as he had meetings this morning. Certainly he had left the house before Margaret even went downstairs for breakfast.

Satisfied with her appearance, Margaret gathered her gloves and made her way to Fanny's room. She knocked and heard 'please enter' from the other side. Margaret opened the door.

'Margaret, you look lovely. Who would have thought that you would have gowns like that in your wardrobe when you usually…' Fanny stopped mid sentence to rethink her words.

'I understand what you mean Fanny. Yes I know I usually look quite different in Milton. But there I am unlikely to attend parties and balls on a regular basis. And I could hardly walk to Marlborough Street wearing this now, could I?'

'No you could not.' Fanny laughed. 'How do I look?' she asked Margaret.

'Splendid. You should always wear blue Fanny. It becomes you. Shall we go?'

'Yes, just let me find my gloves. They are here somewhere.' Fanny rummaged through her drawers.

'Fanny, do you know if John is back yet? I was just concerned that he would not be here in time for the ball.' Margaret felt like a terrible liar.

'John? No, he came earlier to change. But he left again to escort Ann Latimer to the ball. If you ask me anything, Mr Latimer is very keen on John for a son-in-law.'

Margaret felt physically ill. Had she been mistaken in his attentions yesterday? And what about the rose? He had talked of making new memories. Margaret had assumed that he meant with him. Maybe she was mistaken? Maybe she had read too much into a simple kind gesture.

'Do you think that John cares for Miss Latimer?' Margaret tried to sound disinterested.

'I am sure that it would be an advantageous alliance. Mr Latimer is John's banker after all. I do not think Mamma would be pleased. She passionately dislikes Mr Latimer. Although I am not sure that any woman would be good enough for John in my mother's eyes.' Fanny put on her gloves and regarded herself in the looking glass one last time. 'There. Shall we go find your Aunt Shaw?'

Margaret sat pensively in the carriage on the way to the ball. She told herself that it was silly to presume Mr Thornton held her in esteem based solely on their exchanges during a train journey. Bessy had said herself that many girls had their eye on him as a potential suitor. It would make more sense for him to choose someone like Ann Latimer. There would be no advantage in the Master of Marlborough Mill making connections with a poor, former reverend's daughter.

Margaret had to admit that she had never been the best judge of whether a gentleman held affection for her. She had been completely oblivious to Henry's intentions the day that he proposed at Helstone. If she had been, she would have managed her refusal far better than she did. Poor Henry. He had pleaded for her forgiveness last night at dinner. He had said that he dearly wanted them to return to being friends. Margaret wanted that too; but she could not entirely quash her concern that Henry still felt more for her than she did for him.

As the carriage came to a halt, Margaret could not help feeling nervous. She could not account for how much just knowing that Mr Thornton was near affected her. Following Aunt Shaw into the ballroom, Margaret anxiously looked around. It was a beautiful sight. All of the ladies in their finery, the lighting, the decorations. She could hear the musicians warming up and tuning their instruments.

'Oh Margaret, I cannot believe I am at a real ball in London. I could just die!' Fanny's eyes were large with excitement. 'Look there is John.'

Margaret focused her eyes in the direction that Fanny was pointing. She was sure that her heart caught in her throat when she saw him. He was uncommonly handsome, standing tall amongst what seemed like a sea of short, stout balding men. There was no denying how attracted she was to him. Her whole being wanted to gravitate towards him. That is until she saw Ann Latimer.

Miss Latimer was stunning in a midnight blue gown. It was of a more recent style than Margaret's own gown, which was new last year. She held John's arm again in a possessive way, smiling and laughing gaily amongst the group of bankers and guests that had assembled around them.

Margaret wanted to run from the assembly room. She could feel tears starting to prick at her eyes.

'Miss Thornton, may I ask you for the first dance of the evening?' It was Samuel de Walden. Margaret had grown up with Samuel. He would never make a scholar, but his family owned half of Harley Street.

Fanny gave Samuel a brilliant smile. 'Yes Mr de Walden. My card is empty.' Fanny allowed herself to be led onto the dance floor as the orchestra began the opening notes to the Grand March. This dance provided an opportunity to see and be seen as dancers paraded around the room in simple formations.

Margaret saw Mr Thornton lead Miss Latimer onto the floor. She watched as the music increased pace and the participants moved around the room. Fanny was the first to pass her, jubilant in the moment. Ladies and gentlemen, young and old made their way past the onlookers. Margaret detected a pair of piercing blue eyes staring at her. She quickly looked to the floor.

At that moment Mr Latimer moved to talk to a gentleman to Margaret's right. After shaking hands enthusiastically she overheard his companion ask after Ann's health. Margaret listened for Mr Latimer's reply. 'She has only just returned from a very expensive finishing school in Switzerland, and now it looks like I shall have to pay for a very expensive wedding!'

She felt a distinct pain in her chest and the urge to cry assaulted her. She wanted to scream at Mr Thornton, and call him a scoundrel. But she had no basis for such accusations. He had caused her no injury, committed no wrongdoing other than showing kindness and gallantry. Margaret reprimanded herself. What claims did she have to him other than her own selfish longing to be in his company?

The music finished and the dancers dispersed. Margaret could see that Fanny had stayed on the dance floor with Samuel for the Cotillian. John and Ann had joined them.

Margaret decided it was futile for her to stand there and torture herself. She walked over to the refreshment table for a glass of punch. As she placed her hand on the ladle in the bowl a familiar voice spoke to her.

'My dear Margaret, you are a jewel amongst all these stones. How is it that you have not been collected by some tall, dark stranger?' Margaret turned, the elation at seeing this unexpected visitor lifting her spirits.

'Mr Bell! What are you doing here? I did not know you were in London? It is so good to see you.' Margaret embraced him as she would her own father.

'Like all men of good fortune, I am reliant on the services of a good banker. Mr Rothschild drags me to these occasions every year. But I must say that this might be the first time I actually enjoy myself.' Mr Bell chortled at his own joke. 'Why are you here my dear?'

'I have come to visit my Aunt in London for a month of the social season. I have invited Fanny Thornton to stay. Her brother John is here on business with his own banker, Mr Latimer.' Margaret eyes again strayed to Miss Latimer and her good-looking partner.

Mr Bell considered Margaret momentarily. 'Who is on your dance card my dear?'

'No-one presently sir.' Margaret smiled diffidently.

'How can that be possible? We must rectify that immediately.' Mr Bell looked around for a suitable acquaintance.

'Mr Bell, I am content not to be dancing. Please do not take pity on me. Unless of course you should wish to take me around the floor yourself?'

The distinguished older gentleman smiled and bowed. 'I would be honored Margaret. I rarely dance, but as your favourite Godfather I will make an exception.'

He and Margaret moved to the centre of the floor for the start of the next progressive dance. After their turn, Mr Bell waved as he headed on to the next partner and Margaret moved onwards in the opposite direction. They proceeded in the same manner until the music stopped. Margaret looked up at the partner she did not have the opportunity to dance with. Her eyes followed his torso all the way up to a familiar face. Her mind went blank. She stared dumb at him, her hands beginning to shake, her skin feeling hot.

Before she could compose herself to leave the floor, the orchestra began again. It was the Waltz. Without a word, Mr Thornton stepped forward and took Margaret's hand. Her legs felt numb. She had no idea how she was going to move, let alone dance. John's other hand found her waist, edging slightly around her back to pull her closer to him. Margaret felt lightheaded, her heart beating fast. She could smell his cologne again. Her body shuddered. Carefully she placed her hand on John's arm. She had never realised how broad his shoulders were. She could feel the hardness of his muscles beneath the fabric of his coat. She felt strangely secure in his arms yet in danger at the same time. They began to move. Everything was turning. Margaret's skirt billowed out as John spun her about the room. His hand crept further around her back bringing her closer to him. She could feel the warmth of the length of his body. They were moving in synch. Nothing had ever felt more natural. Margaret looked up into John's face and met the intensity of his gaze with her own depth of feeling. It felt like they were the only ones in the room. Everything else became a blur as she looked into the depths of his beautiful eyes. Their breathing escalated, John held her tighter still. Margaret relaxed in his arms allowing him to guide her around the floor. They were moving so lightly, so effortlessly, it was almost like floating in the wind with him. They were as one.

And then the music ended. It took longer than it should have for the Master and the Reverend's daughter to let go of each other. They reluctantly broke apart, still staring at each other, both unsure what to do next.

'Capital dancing you two.' It was Mr Bell that interrupted their reverie. 'I think every eye in the room was on you. You had us all quite enthralled. How handsome you look together.'

With Mr Bell's voice, John collected himself and shook the older man's hand. 'Mr Bell, this is an unexpected pleasure.'

'How long are you in town John?'

'I'm afraid I leave in the morning. There is nothing that we need to attend to regarding my lease is their sir?' John looked uncomfortable

'Not at all John.'

'Well if you will both excuse me. Mr Bell. Miss Hale.' John bowed and hurried away.

The heightened emotion of the last few minutes started to catch up with Margaret. She had turned pale and Mr Bell became concerned for her welfare. 'Margaret, are you all right my dear. You look positively wretched. What can I do for you?'

Margaret felt like she was going to cry at any moment. 'I feel unwell - just a small headache. Can you take me back to my aunt's please sir? I would not want to ask Fanny or my aunt to go home early on my account.'

'Of course my dear. Let us get your coat immediately. Go speak to your aunt and I will meet you at the door.'

Margaret smiled in gratitude.

Alone with Mr Bell in the darkness of the carriage, Margaret finally allowed a tear to fall down her cheek. They sat in silence. Margaret did not feel like talking and Mr Bell thankfully did not ask questions. She would not have been able to answer them even if he had.

Margaret did not understand what was happening between her and John. They had shared some moments of profound feeling in the last few days, she was now sure of it. But John seemed to be pulling away.

All she did know for sure was that her heart felt broken. Margaret had never had a broken heart before. She had always wondered what it felt like. Despite all of the confusion she felt, she figured that there was only one thing that it could mean.

She was deeply in love with Mr Thornton.


	11. Chapter 11

Thankfully no-one at Harley Street questioned Margaret's departure from the ball with a headache. She had a terrible night; tossing and turning until finally in the dawn hours she slipped into an uneasy slumber. As a result, Margaret slept late this morning. As she went down to breakfast she half feared half hoped that she had missed John's departure for Milton.

'Goodmorning Fanny. Goodmorning Aunt.' Margaret took her seat at the breakfast table.

'Goodmorning Margaret. Are you feeling better this morning my dear? You looked so pale and unwell last night, I was quite worried about you.' Aunt Shaw buttered her warm, freshly baked bread.

'Thank you Aunt. It was just a headache. I did not sleep well so I am still a little weary. I am sure I will make a speedy recovery.' Margaret sipped her tea from the delicate china she remembered from her childhood.

'Well I had a simply marvelous time,' Fanny said enthusiastically. 'I could have danced all night,' she giggled.

'And you would have, had I not dragged you away from young Samuel.' Aunt Shaw sounded severe but Margaret saw there was amusement in her eyes.

Fanny glanced at Margaret to check whether she had done wrong. Margaret sent her a reassuring look.

'Mrs Shaw, Mr de Walden has asked me to walk with him this afternoon. He said he would call for me at 2 o'clock.' Fanny said this like she was seeking her Mrs Shaw's blessing.

'That is fine dear. I am going to call on Mrs Piper today. Margaret do you wish to accompany me or would you prefer to stay here and rest?' Mrs Shaw asked with concern.

Margaret was certainly not enthusiastic about an afternoon spent with the Pipers. 'I think I will keep to my room today Aunt. Please give Mrs Piper my best wishes.' Her curiosity now getting the better of her, Margaret enquired subtly after Mr Thornton. 'Fanny, have you spoken to John about walking with Samuel?

'John left for Milton this morning before I had a chance to speak with him. He was dreadfully out of sorts last night. I dare say I am glad that I did not have to chance his mood.'

Margaret felt a little relieved that she would not have to face John this morning. She assured herself that it would be for the best if she saw as little as possible of him.

After breakfast, Margaret retired to her room to read. Still fatigued from the night before, it was not long and she was sound asleep. She did not rouse until she heard a knock on her door. Margaret sat up with a start and looked at the clock. It was after 2 o'clock. She had slept half the day away.

The chambermaid opened the door. 'Miss Margaret, I am sorry to disturb you, but a Mr Bell is in the drawing room. There is nobody else here. He has asked for you miss.'

'Tell him I will be down directly, thank you Emma. Actually, Emma could you arrange for some tea and sandwiches please.' The girl nodded and left.

Margaret quickly splashed water on her face and hurried to fix her hair. She did her best to smooth out the creases in her dress as she made her way downstairs.

'Hello my dear, you have more colour in your cheeks today.' Mr Bell eyed her critically. 'I hope I am not disturbing you. I just couldn't rest until I knew that you were feeling better.'

Margaret sat down as the housekeeper, Mrs Hill, brought them some tea. Margaret poured her Godfather a cup with his usual squeeze of lemon.

'Thank you Mr Bell, I am better today. And thank you again for coming to my aid last night. I am indebted to you.'

'Not at all my dear. What else is an old Godfather good for if he cannot come to the rescue of his young damsel when she is in distress?' He stirred his tea. 'The butler tells me that you are all alone this afternoon Margaret?'

'Yes, my aunt is out making calls and Fanny is out walking with Samuel de Walden.' Margaret's tone implied that she was not sure that this was for the best.

'You do not approve of this Samuel, Margaret?' asked Mr Bell.

'It is not a matter of whether I approve, Mr Bell. I have known Samuel for most of my life here at Harley Street. He is amiable and well mannered.'

'But?' prompted Mr Bell.

Margaret grimaced. 'But, he belongs to one of the richest families in England. He stands to inherit half of the estate that this house stands on as well as many others. His parents will have high expectations with regards to…'

'You mean they will not think little Fanny good enough for the young heir of Harley Street. I see. And you are concerned that Fanny might be setting herself up for…disappointment.'

Margaret nodded.

'I wonder whether you might not have some experience with disappointment yourself Margaret?'

Margaret's eyes shot up to meet with Mr Bell's in shock. How could he know?

'Come now. You would need to have been blind not to have seen how you and John Thornton looked at each other last night. The way you two danced together.. What _is_ going on there Margaret?'

'Nothing sir. I thought..well I was wrong. It would seem that Mr Thornton may be soon engaged to Ann Latimer.'

'What, the banker's daughter?'

'They have been spending a lot of time together, and Mr Thornton was most attentive to her at the ball.' Margaret really did not want to be talking about this.

'Any man would be a fool not to see you for the Queen that you are. If he should choose money and influence over a prize such as you…'

'Thank you Mr Bell. But you are quite biased I'm sure. ' Margaret paused for a moment in thought. 'Mr Bell, I would ask you one favour?'

'Anything my dear.'

'Please do not say anything to Papa about Mr Thornton and I. I know my father values his friendship. I would not want anything to interfere with that. '

'I understand. You have my absolute discretion.'

'Thank you sir.'

Mr Bell took a bite out of a cucumber sandwich before discarding it again. He washed it down with his tea in distaste. 'Besides Miss Thornton, have you made many new friends in Milton?'

'Not many. I have become acquainted with some of the workers from the mill. One of them rescued my purse when a pick pocketer stole it. He had a daughter my age, but she died soon after.'

'Oh my poor Margaret. That must have been a shock. Was she ill?'

'She had fluff on the lungs. Her father is a unionist. He seems an honorable man, but Mr Thornton does not think highly of him.'

Mr Bell burst out laughing.

Margaret smiled at his amusement. 'What? Why are you laughing?'

'Oh I'm sorry Margaret. It is just that, there is no-one else in this world that I could think of that could fall in love with the hero of the story whilst at the same time befriending her hero's mortal enemy!'

Margaret was slightly indignant. 'They are both good men, Mr Bell. I just wish they could see for themselves the qualities that I see. There is talk of a strike you know?'

'No I did not know. That is not good news. I understand that it took the mills in Milton some time to recover from the last strike.'

'I just think that most of the trouble stems from misunderstanding. If the masters would only explain their position to the union, and in turn allow them to voice their plight …Well I feel strongly that more can be achieved through rational intercourse than through strife and crime.'

'You are perfectly correct of course Margaret. But few men could do this without ego's and tempers getting in the way.'

'I think Mr Thornton and Nicholas Higgins can. One of them just needs to make the first move.'

Mr Bell smiled. 'Just like in affairs of the heart?'

Margaret laughed despite herself. 'Mr Bell you are incorrigible!'

'Yes, yes but I am too old to change now. Anyway my girl, I must leave you soon. I am heading back to Oxford this evening. But I shall return to London after a fortnight; in time to take you and Miss Thornton back to Milton, if you wish?'

'Thank you, I should be most obliged if you would. Aunt Shaw will most certainly be relieved that she does not have to make the journey to Milton.'

'I'm sure she will.' Mr Bell smirked. 'Don't tell your father, I should like it to be a surprise. What a shock he will get when his old school pal shows up at his door to deliver his daughter!'

'A good surprise I am sure Mr Bell,' said Margaret affectionately.


	12. Chapter 12

The two weeks since Mr Bell had come for tea passed quickly. Aunt Shaw had planned a comprehensive calendar of calls, dinner parties, charity events and balls for her young charges. Margaret enjoyed seeing some of her old friends and acquaintances but was beginning to miss the little house at Crampton, and more particularly her mother and father. She had only received two pieces of correspondence from them during her time in London. Both were short and contained few details to put her mind at ease. Margaret looked forward to going home with Mr Bell. She knew his visit would raise their spirits considerably.

Even Fanny was starting to feel weary of town. Sitting and drinking her tea on the first afternoon free from making social calls, Fanny complained to Margaret. 'I had no idea what hard work being in society is. I mean you spend all day riding around in a coach in the heat and the dust, leaving cards for ladies who may or may not be home or may or may not wish to receive you. And for what?'

Margaret smiled. 'Recreation, Fanny. It is what London ladies do to amuse themselves.' Margaret looked around at her surroundings. 'You must admit, they have little else to occupy them. I think that is why I prefer living in Helstone or even in Milton. There are always things to do.'

'Do you Margaret? You seem so at ease here. And I would have thought that a certain Mr Lennox would be enough enticement for you to live in London?' Fanny said slyly. 'I can hardly count the number of times he has come to tea. He is always most attentive to you.'

Margaret shook her head. 'Mr Lennox? No Fanny. Mr Lennox is more like a brother to me. I don't feel that way about him, and he understands that.'

'But you do not deny that he is in love with you?' Fanny asked in astonishment.

'I cannot help what he may or may not feel. But I know that we could never be happy together. I am far too forthright and opinionated, and Henry…well lets just say that I do not love him. And I could never marry without love.' Margaret thought about John, wondering if he would be happy with Ann Latimer.

'Poor Mr Lennox.' Fanny poured herself another tea.

'What about you and Mr de Walden, Fanny? Do you think that there is a real attachment there?' Margaret had wanted to bring up the topic of Samuel for some time. This seemed a good opportunity.

'He is very polite, and very handsome. And he is rich to be sure. But I don't think he is serious about me. When we walk together he can only talk about his model trains or his insect collections.' Fanny frowned. 'He has not even introduced me to his parents.'

'You are very wise Fanny. I have known Samuel for most of my life. I confess I did have some reservations as to whether he would be a good match for you.'

'Why didn't you say something before Margaret? Well, it matters little now for we shall be back to Milton soon anyway.' Fanny paused, a small smile lighting her pretty face. 'In fact, I think I should be glad to be home. I do not want to seem ungrateful Margaret, but I do believe I prefer Milton to town. Thank you for bringing me here. I have had a marvelous time. I wrote and told Mamma as much.'

'I'm glad Fanny. How is your mother? Have you heard from her?' Margaret enquired.

'Yes, I received a letter from her this morning. She is well. She said she hoped I was being sensible with my spending, but that she looked forward to seeing my purchases. I think she was in a good mood on account that John has managed to circumvent a strike with the workers. Mamma says the mill is now safe from ruin,' Fanny said matter of factly.

'Did she say how?' Margaret could feel the blood pumping through the veins in her temples.

'How what?' asked Fanny unaware of the other girl's particular interest.

'How John circumvented the strike?' Margaret was impatient to know more.

'I do not know. Mamma did not say. Why is that important to you Margaret?' Fanny seemed surprised.

Margaret tried to stay nonchalant, 'As, as you know, I have made friends with the workers. I am interested in their welfare, that is all.' It was not all, but Margaret did not feel like opening up those wounds to Fanny's notice. Could she write to John to ask him? No that would not be proper. What about Nicholas? It was only a week until she would be home – perhaps she could go and see him on her return.

At that moment Thomas came into the drawing room. 'I am sorry to disturb you Miss Margaret but a letter has just come by urgent courier for you.'

'Thank you Thomas.' Handing it to Margaret with a smile, the butler bowed and left the room.

Margaret turned the letter over trying to distinguish the handwriting. Perfectly formed the penmanship appeared commanding yet fluid.

'That looks like John's writing. Are you sure that the letter was not addressed to me?' Fanny got out of her seat to look over Margaret's shoulder.

'No it is definitely for me. Perhaps it is not from John,' said Margaret. Wondering how she could tactfully withdraw from Fanny to read the letter alone, Margaret said, 'Fanny, I just remembered that I promised Aunt Shaw I would write some thank you notes before we return to Milton. Would you mind if I retire to my room to complete them before I forget? It will allow me to respond to this correspondence as well if I need to.'

Fanny shrugged her shoulders and said, 'Mrs Shaw said I could practice on the pianoforte in her music room. Seeing as I have not touched an instrument for nearly three weeks together, I think I may take her up on her offer while you attend to your letters.'

Margaret hurried to her room, anxious to open the letter. He heart was palpitating with the thought that the writing could be John's, although Margaret could not think of why he would write to her. Unless he wished to tell her about his success in averting a strike?

Sitting at her writing desk, Margaret broke open the crimson red wax sealing the letter. Unable to resist she looked for the signature. It was signed, "Yours faithfully, John Thornton". Margaret could barely think straight to read. Taking a deep breath she started from the top.

**_Dear Margaret_**

**_I do not wish to alarm you. I have struggled with what is proper and dutiful to your father, but I have decided that in good conscience I must write to you._**

**_I was at Crampton yesterday evening for my lesson with your father. He seemed dazed and distracted. When I enquired after his health he became defensive. He accused me of prying into matters that were not my concern and as good as asked me to leave. In my reluctant exodus, I ran into Dr Donaldson on the street. He was on the way to your house for a consultation – with your mother._**

**_Margaret, Dr Donaldson believes your mother is gravely ill. He says he has spoken with your father but that Mr Hale is refusing to accept the diagnosis. Your father has forbid Dixon to speak of it with anyone. He keeps to the house and is not eating or sleeping._**

**_Margaret I am worried for him and more particularly for your mother. You must come home – as soon as it can be arranged._**

**_I am sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings. I hope that you will understand my dilemma and not think me interfering in my correspondence to you._**

**_Please extend my well wishes to Fanny and your Aunt. _**

**_Yours faithfully_**

**_John Thornton_**

The contents of this note, though distressing, set Margaret into action. Denying herself tears or self-pity, she wrote a note to Mr Bell to be delivered to his hotel. He was expected in London today. She only hoped that he would not delay their departure for Milton any longer than tomorrow.

After giving Thomas her correspondence for immediate delivery, Margaret's next task was to advise her friend and her aunt of the turn of events. As she was about to head towards the music room there was a knock at the front door. Margaret waited for Thomas to answer it.

'Good afternoon Mr Lennox,' said Thomas.

'Good afternoon Thomas, I am here to see Miss Margaret. Is she in?' As Henry said this he spied Margaret hovering in the hall. 'Margaret, it is such a beautiful day I thought I would abandon my work to take you on a tour of the park.' Henry looked at Margaret's face and halted his invitation. 'Margaret, is there something the matter?'

Margaret gestured for Henry to follow her into the drawing room. She did not wish to have this conversation in the open for the servants to hear. 'Henry, I have to go home. I have just received a letter from Mr Thornton.'

At these words, Henry's expression hardened.

'My mother is ill, he begs my immediate return.' Margaret's voice faltered.

'Are you sure, Margaret?'

She looked at Henry quizzically, finding his response peculiar. 'I'm sorry sir, but I do not follow you? Mr Thornton made it very clear that…'

Henry's tone changed with his irritation. 'Mr Thornton is in love with you Margaret! He would say anything, do anything to coax you away from London. Can't you see he is just using your devotion to your parents to take you away from London. To take you away from me…'

'You, Henry? Why should Mr Thornton wish to take me away from you?' Margaret regarded him suspiciously as Henry started to pace nervously. 'What have you said to him Henry?'

'Only that you and I…' Henry turned and stood closer to Margaret, gazing at her beseechingly, '…that you and I are meant for each other Margaret.'

Margaret turned her back on Henry, disbelief being replaced by repulsion at what she was hearing.

'Come now Margaret, it has been months since our conversation at Helstone. I know that it was a shock to you at first, but surely you have had time to reconcile that we are perfect for one another. Think of Edith. Our union would make all our relation very happy.'

Henry advanced towards Margaret. With his every step forward she stepped away until she could feel the solid wall beside her. She tried to move to the left, towards the door but Henry grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. 'Margaret, you knew how I felt about you, how I have wanted you. You have not discouraged me. I could only presume that even though you deny it that this is what you wanted too, in your heart.'

Henry tried to kiss Margaret but she turned her face. She could smell whiskey. 'You are drunk, sir. Please go before you do something we shall both regret,' Margaret said sternly.

Henry pulled harder at Margaret's wrists before putting both his arms around her. "This is no time to be churlish Margaret. You should be grateful for my attentions. You have little to recommend you. Even your tradesman from the north will see that there are better prospects to be had.' Henry pressed her body closer to his.

Margaret felt anger and panic rise and tried to struggle free from his embrace. 'Let me go, Henry!'

Henry held tight to Margaret, bruising her arms and sickening her stomach with his moist, foul smelling breath.

Suddenly the door to the drawing room flew open and Margaret heard a male voice threaten, 'Let her go Lennox, or it may be the last thing you ever do!'


	13. Chapter 13

'It would seem I have you to thank once again for rescuing me, Mr Bell,' Margaret said glibly as she lay down on the French Sofa.

Henry had shoved Margaret away at Mr Bell's appearance, knocking her against one of the cabinets in the room before running from the house. Besides a bump on her head that was quickly rising, Margaret was otherwise unscathed.

'Were I twenty years younger and a good deal stronger I would have given the scoundrel a beating to within an inch of his life.' Margaret's Godfather was visibly shaken by what he had witnessed. She reached out to hold his hand appreciating his protective instinct.

Mrs Shaw rushed in, having heard about the commotion in the drawing room from her servants. 'Margaret, what is the matter? Are you all right? What has happened?'

Mr Bell faced Mrs Shaw. 'I will tell you what has happened madam. Your son in law's brother has just assaulted my Goddaughter in an unspeakable manner. He has tried - unsuccessfully I might add thanks to good timing on my part - to impose himself upon her in this very room. '

Mrs Shaw looked shocked. 'Surely there has just been some misunderstanding. Henry loves Margaret. He would never do such a thing, especially under my own roof.' Mrs Shaw turned to Margaret, 'Tell me this is not true,' she implored.

Margaret sat up slowly, still feeling shaken and sore from the encounter. 'I am afraid it is Aunt. I shall have the bruises to prove it tomorrow.' Margaret showed her Aunt the angry red welts on her forearms.

'What did you say to make him react like that Margaret? Surely you must have provoked him in some way?' the pompous lady said in disbelief.

Mr Bell became indignant. 'Madam, you know as well as I that Margaret's character is beyond reproach. That you could accuse your niece of being the cause of such deplorable behavior and in someway deserving of its consequence is treacherous indeed!'

Mrs Shaw sat down next to Margaret. 'I'm sorry my dear, I just find this all so hard to comprehend. Henry loves you. He wants to marry you. Why would he try to compromise you in this way?'

'He was drunk Aunt. I could smell whiskey on his breath.' Margaret looked at the lady who for so many years had acted in the place of her mother. 'You knew how Henry felt about me?'

'Yes, I confess I did. But I would never have dreamed that he could behave in this way. I thought a match with Henry would be highly advantageous for you. We all felt it would be in your best interests,' Aunt Shaw said repentantly.

'Well madam you were _all_sadly mistaken.' Mr Bell was livid. 'I see I shall have to remove my God-daughter from your home immediately unless you can assure me of her protection from a cad like Lennox!'

'I shall instruct Thomas immediately that Mr Lennox is unwelcome in this house whilst Margaret is here,' Mrs Shaw still seemed skeptical.

'That won't be necessary Aunt,' said Margaret.

Both Mr Bell and Mrs Shaw looked at Margaret searchingly.

'I received a letter from Mr Thornton today.' Margaret noticed Mrs Shaw shift uncomfortably in her seat. 'He wrote to hurry my return home. He has spoken with my mother's physician who has told him that she is gravely ill.'

Mr Bell was perplexed. 'Surely if this is true Margaret, your father would have written?'

Margaret shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. 'That is why Mr Thornton wrote to me. Papa is in denial. He refuses to accept the physician's advice and is going about his daily routine like nothing is out of place. He has forbidden even Dixon to speak of it..' Margaret's lip began to quiver.

'This is grievous indeed Margaret,' said Mr Bell. 'I shall make arrangements for us to return to Milton first thing in the morning. If you and Miss Thornton can be ready at 9am, I shall collect you promptly.'

'Thank you, Mr Bell. I had hoped you would be willing to cut your visit to London short. Papa needs us. I need to see Mamma.' Margaret choked back her sobs. Aunt Shaw wrapped her arm around Margaret in a soothing manner.

Later that evening Margaret lay in bed, thinking about the day's events. Touching the bump on her head, she was relieved to feel that the swelling had reduced. The pain of it reminded her of Henry's anger. She recalled how his countenance had changed when she spoke of her letter from Mr Thornton and his vehemence when he declared, 'Mr Thornton is in love with you Margaret!'

Margaret reached for the folded note sitting on her bedside table. She ran her fingers delicately over the print. Bringing it to her nose she smelt the faintest hint of John's cologne….

Margaret put the letter back on her side table abruptly, angry at herself for thinking more of Mr Thornton than the contents of his letter. She chastised herself that her attentions should be with her dear Mother and Father, not wasted on a gentleman who was likely betrothed to someone else.

Margaret was trying not to dwell on her mother. Until she knew the exact nature of her condition, there was very little Margaret could do from London. She took comfort in knowing that Dixon was with her. Dixon was loyal and fiercely protective of her mistress - she would see her through any ills.

She was more worried for her father. Mr Hale was inclined towards avoiding problems - dusting them under the carpet as it were - preferring to submit them to prayer. Usually this meant that difficult matters were left to Margaret or her mother to resolve. But with her mother incapacitated and Margaret in London, Mr Hale would be left to his own means. John's letter now made her fear for her father's state of mind.

Margaret made a last mental calculation of how long it would be until she arrived home. Fanny had taken the news of the interruption to their London trip gracefully and without question. Margaret had explained that her mother was unwell and that she needed to return home immediately. She had not made mention of her altercation with Henry. Fanny had promised to have her trunk packed and ready to go by morning.

Aunt Shaw had been prodigiously attentive this evening, making every effort to see to Margaret's comfort. Contemplating the news of her sister's ailing health, Aunt Shaw bemoaned that Maria had not come to London with her daughter - for she was sure that the change in society would have been beneficial to her health. She promised to visit Milton when Maria was fully recovered. Margaret feared that her mother's condition was much worse than Aunt Shaw estimated it to be, but she could not bear to labor on the point after such a day.

As she closed her eyes, Margaret's thoughts again drifted to the handsome face of the man she was in love with. In her vision she was in his arms, spinning around the dance floor, her red dress billowing. He was holding her tightly, his eyes looking down lovingly at her, his smile captivating her heart and soul. It was bliss. And then the music stopped. She looked up expectantly at her partner, only to find that her gentle lover had transformed to Henry, his scornful face advancing menacingly towards her. He took her by the throat, and as she gasped for her last breaths she saw John leaving the ballroom with Miss Latimer on his arm. Ann was dressed in white and gold, her veil flowing and beaded with shimmering pearls. Margaret's parents were walking behind them, her mother crying with lace handkerchief in one hand a yellow rose in the other…

Margaret woke with a start, sweat on her brow, her nightdress damp from perspiration. She sat up in the dark. Comprehending that she was safe in her bedroom at Harley Street, she took a few deep breaths to slow her racing pulse. She did her best to reassure herself that it was all just a senseless dream as she lay back down.


	14. Chapter 14

John returned from the mill late. The orders were still flowing in and he was struggling to keep up with his bookwork. He was considering hiring someone to help him with the management of the mill. He just needed to be sure that the agreement he had negotiated with the workers would be honored before he added to his expenses.

'Good evening John.' His mother's voice sounded from the dining room. He walked further into the house, his weary eyes resting on the familiar picture of her attending to her sewing. 'There are sandwiches on the table for you. I thought you would not feel like a hot meal at this hour.' Hannah Thornton glanced at the long case clock and saw that it was about to sound eleven in the evening. She noted to herself that she would need to schedule the annual visit from the clock maker to clean and fine-tune her prized possession. It had once belonged to her Grandfather.

'Thank you Mother.' He bent and kissed her cheek before sitting at the table to devour his meal.

'Fanny arrived home today.'

John stopped chewing for a moment to consider this information. 'How is she? Did she enjoy the rest of her visit in London?'

'Very much it would seem, although I think she is glad to be home. She asked after the Mill and enquired how things are with the workers.' Mrs Thornton appeared amused.

John coughed, nearly choking on his sandwich. 'Fanny showed interest in the mill? My, my, I thought time with Miss Hale would have a positive impact but I did not expect her to work miracles,' John said humorously.

Mrs Thornton chuckled briefly. 'I do believe I can see a little more consideration in Fanny. Perhaps their friendship has been a good influence after all.' After a few moments of thoughtful silence Mrs Thornton added, 'She told me that you wrote to Miss Hale to inform her that her mother is unwell and that you urged them to return to Milton.' Mrs Thornton put down her sewing. 'Do you think it was wise to interfere in the Hales' business in that way John?'

John swallowed his mouthful and put down his sandwich. 'Mr Hale is my friend Mother. Dr Donaldson said that Mrs Hale is unlikely to survive for very much longer. How could I live with myself - knowing what I know - if Miss Hale missed saying goodbye to her mother? I could not in good conscience have chosen to do anything else. Especially when Mr Hale is refusing to acknowledge the seriousness of his wife's condition.'

'How is Mrs Hale? Have you heard any more since your visit to Crampton?' enquired Mrs Thornton.

'I walked there this morning and spoke with Dixon, their servant. Mr Hale was out visiting one of his pupils. Dixon said Mrs Hale was resting comfortably but her condition is unchanged. Dr Donaldson is stopping by almost daily now.' John left the rest of his sandwich and pushed his plate away, his appetite quickly disappearing. 'I will go by there again tomorrow and check on Margaret, er Miss Hale.'

Mrs Thornton raised her eyebrows. 'Whatever you think is best John. Although I do not see why you should become so involved.'

John rubbed his eyes as he heard the clock strike eleven. 'I think I shall retire now Mother, it has been a long day.' Before he left he turned and said 'I will come back to the house for luncheon tomorrow, to see Fanny.'

'She would like that. Good night John. Sleep well.'

'You too Mother.'

John climbed the stairs two at a time, eager to retreat to the sanctuary of his own room.

As the first sunlight touched the sky in the morning, John was already making his way back to the mill. Cook had prepared his usual piece of bread and jam to eat on his way to his desk. As he walked across the yard he could hear the tolling of the bells of the church in the distance, its sound announcing the passing of a member of the parish. He paused in the crisp morning air to pay his respects and said a quick prayer for the unknown person's soul.

John enjoyed this time of day. Feeling refreshed from slumber he usually found he was able to get through a good deal of work before the mill workers arrived for their shift. Today however he was feeling diverted.

Knowing that Margaret was back in Milton was unsettling. He had all but abandoned the hope of a future with her. Her aunt had declared that a match was settled between Margaret and Henry Lennox. But a willful part of him still longed to hear it confirmed from Margaret's own lips.

Alone on the train on his way home to Milton from London, after hours of soul searching and reflection, he had pledged to himself that he would ask her outright whether she intended to marry Lennox. Whilst most people would consider him impudent and bad-mannered for doing so, he concluded that Margaret was unlikely to be offended. After all, she herself had rarely shied away from asking him direct questions that she wanted answers to. The memory of their spirited debates brought a slight smile to John's lips.

The morning dragged by slowly. There was more noise than usual in the factory due to the refurbishing work. Trades people were turning one of the unused storage houses into a meal kitchen. This would be used to distribute hot lunches every day to the workers – part of the agreement negotiated in lieu of a pay rise. Though funded by Marlborough Mill, John had delegated the responsibility for the project to the union. The other mills in town were monitoring this 'experiment' closely. As a collective they had agreed 'in principle' to implement the idea across the industry.

As the clock on the wall struck 12, John put on his coat and returned to the house. He entered the dining room to find Fanny sitting alone waiting for him.

'Hello brother,' she said smiling widely, 'have you missed me?'

John grinned. He had noticed Fanny's absence these last few weeks. The house seemed almost still and lifeless without her relentless piano playing and inordinately bad singing. John recalled a time not so long ago when he had returned to the house for lunch only to hear another lady's voice, its sweet melodic tone extraordinary and unique like her.

'It is truly good to have you home Fanny. I trust you enjoyed the rest of your time in London?'

'Yes, it was most instructive. Margaret's aunt keeps very busy in the social season. We called on nearly everyone who is anyone in good society.'

'And how did you enjoy making those calls Fanny?' John enquired, curious as to whether his young sibling had found London to be everything she expected.

Fanny frowned. 'Not so much as I thought I might. The balls and parties were spectacular with all of the ladies in their gowns and finery. But the general conversations were quite dull and stuffy, relating to who said what, and who is marrying who, and who is richer than so and so. I think even Margaret found it tedious at times. I don't think she particularly enjoys London society either,' Fanny said with authority.

'Really? What makes you say that?' John wondered what else she had learnt about her new friend.

'She told me. She said she prefers Milton because there is always something to do… or something like that. I'm not quite sure what she meant.' Fanny giggled absentmindedly. 'But I do know that she finds calling on London ladies tiresome.' Fanny's expression suddenly lit up. 'Oh John, Margaret took me to all the best stores in London. I shall wear the new gown I bought in Mayfair for the annual Marlborough dinner. I cannot wait.' She clapped her hands in glee.

John heard Fanny's excited words but his thoughts were still focused elsewhere. 'Did Margaret say whether she would be returning to London again soon?'

Fanny shook her head. 'No, I should think not with her mother being so ill. Why?'

John persisted. 'But she does have friends and close acquaintances that she would wish to see again does she not?

'Only her aunt and cousin I imagine. But in anycase, Mrs Shaw has promised to come to Milton when Margaret's mother recovers.'

Obviously Mrs Shaw was refusing to accept the inevitability of her sister's fate like her brother-in-law. 'What about Mr Lennox, did you see much of him during your time in London?' John was risking Fanny becoming suspicious of all his questions but he was impatient to know more about Margaret's ties to London.

Fanny screwed up her nose. 'Yes, but I cannot conceive of Margaret returning to London on account of Mr Lennox. Poor fellow, he is violently in love with her but she does not think of him in that way.'

John felt a rush of adrenalin shoot through his body. 'How do you know that Fanny?'

'She told me.' Fanny looked at her brother. 'Why are you so suddenly interested in Margaret's connections in London?'

John ignored her questioning. 'So she is not to marry Henry Lennox?'

'No! Why on earth would you think that?' She was losing patience with him.

'Are you sure?'

"Yes …' Fanny looked incredulously at her brother.

Before Fanny could say another word, John leaped out of his chair and kissed her on the cheek. 'I'm sorry Fanny but I just remembered some urgent business that I must attend to. Please apologise to Mother for me. I will see you at supper and you can tell me more about London then.'

Without further explanation, John ran out the door leaving Fanny's cry of 'John, where are you going?' in his wake.


	15. Chapter 15

John found it hard to contain his joy as he walked to Crampton. His legs could not transport him fast enough. To know that Margaret was not engaged to that unctuous louse Lennox stoked a fire in his heart. Nothing could have made him more certain about what he wanted than the feeling of exhilaration and release when Fanny told him the truth.

Retribution for the lies he had been told by Lennox and Mrs Shaw would come later. Right now he wanted only to see her, to make his intentions known.

Rounding the corner towards the Hale house, John soon felt that something was not right. As he drew closer he could see that all of the drapes were closed. Looking to the front door he saw Dixon fastening black crepe with white ribbons. Mrs Hale!, he thought.

John walked slowly forward trying not to startle the servant lady. She was crying as she worked. Dixon looked up as she finished. 'Mr Thornton,' she whimpered. She glanced at the crepe. 'As you can see sir, you have not come at a good time.'

'Your mistress has passed then?' John said gently.

Shaking her head, Dixon began to sob uncontrollably. John stood feeling awkward, not knowing how to comfort the hysterical woman in front of him. Through her tears she finally said, 'Mrs Hale.. is …still with us, ….for now. It was Mr Hale, .. his heart..' She gave way to unrestrained crying again.

John was stunned. Mr Hale? Dear Lord. But how? What had happened?

Dixon continued to howl.

'Dixon, calm yourself. Where is Miss Hale?' Oh poor Margaret. Poor, darling Margaret.

Dixon took a few deep breaths, sniffed and wiped her nose. 'Where she has been most of the night. With the Mistress. I will relieve her now that I am done here.' Dixon pointed to the black trimming on the door.

Trying to be compassionate, but impatient to see Margaret, John enquired further. 'Will you go and ask Miss Hale if she will see me? As her father's friend, I should pay my respects.'

Dixon straightened to her full height, 'I don't think Miss Margaret will be seeing anyone today sir…'

A soft voice came from behind the door, 'Thank you Dixon, of course Mr Thornton may come in.'

John's breath caught in his chest, transfixed by the young woman now standing at the doorway. Even in her mourning attire she was entrancingly beautiful; although her face was paler than he remembered and her eyes red from crying. She looked tired from the night's ordeal, yet she remained steadfast in her duty to her family. A lesser woman would have been rendered feeble in the face of all this grief.

Dixon stormed back inside and up the stairs to Mrs Hale's room muttering something to herself.

Margaret ushered John into the small sitting room that Mr Hale had used to conduct his lessons.

'Thank you Miss Hale. I would not want to trouble you at such a time as this. I must say that I am still in shock. I was not expecting…it hardly seems possible…' John was struck dumb as he tried to contain his own emotions. 'I'm so sorry Margaret. As you can tell, I am quite lost for words. This is dreadful indeed.' John searched Margaret's face. There was an unusual serenity about her. 'How did it happen?'

They both sat down. John could see that Margaret was trying to work out where to begin.

'Mr Bell and I arrived yesterday afternoon. Father was overjoyed to see his old friend. Happier in fact than I had seen him for some time.' Margaret restlessly played with the stitching on a cushion. 'He and Mr Bell sat is this very room for hours talking about their Oxford days.' Margaret looked around as if replaying the scene in her mind before returning her eyes to John. 'As you can imagine, when I came home I was eager to find out more about my mother's condition so I went straight upstairs.'

Not wanting to interrupt Margaret, but feeling it was only proper to ask, John enquired, 'How is your mother?'

'She has been lucid for only a few moments since I arrived.' A single tear escaped Margaret's eye. She quickly blinked it away. 'She does not know about Papa…' Margaret started to cry. John moved to sit in a chair a little closer, offering her his handkerchief. She took it gratefully and wiped her eyes. 'Thank you,' she said.

Composing herself, Margaret continued. 'I joined my father and Mr Bell for a late supper, for I had not eaten all day. At about 11 o'clock I said goodnight and went to bed. The next I knew, Dixon was in my room telling me that my father had collapsed.'

Wanting desperately to lessen her pain, John reached out and took Margaret's hand. She accepted it willingly. He felt her tighten her grasp.

'I hurried downstairs to find my father on the floor, lying in Mr Bell's arms. He was gasping for air and clutching his chest. And then all of a sudden he went quiet.' Margaret looked at John with a bewildered expression as she said, 'He was gone. There was nothing else to be done.' Margaret swallowed, still intent on finishing her story. 'The doctor came eventually. He said it was most likely his heart.'

'How you must have suffered, Margaret.' John rubbed her tiny hand in between his calloused palms.

'All this time I was angry that Papa did not seem to care how unwell Mamma was. But in the end, the stress, it all became too much…..' Margaret again buried her face in the handkerchief. When she surfaced, she appeared apprehensive. 'John, did my father ever tell you I have a brother?'

John stopped still, his mind racing, his mouth agape. Recovering he said, 'No, he did not.'

Margaret withdrew her hand from John's hold to wrap her arms about herself. She leaned back against her chair in reflection. "It is true. His name is Frederick. He is older than me.'

John leaned forward ready to hear her tale.

'He was a second lieutenant in the navy. He was posted to the ship – the Russell – captained by a man named Reid. Captain Reid, seemed to take a dislike to Frederick from the very beginning.

There many new hands on board the Russell, and Reid was intolerant of them. Frederick did his best to _bear all his tyranny patiently_. He wrote to tell us about an incident with some sailors that were up in the main-topsail rigging. The captain had ordered them to race down, threatening the cat-of- nine-tails.The fellow furthest up the mas_t feeling the impossibility of passing his companions, and yet passionately dreading the disgrace of the flogging, threw himself desperately down to catch a rope considerably lower, failed, and fell senseless on deck. He only survived for a few hours afterwards. _

By this time the ship's crew were at boiling point.' Margaret looked at John, her face pleading for his understanding. 'You must appreciate that _it was not for himself, or his own injuries, he rebelled. _The situationwent _from bad to worse. Most of the sailors stuck by Frederick._

The worst of it was my parents did not receive his letter about the matter until well after they heard of the mutiny. The first they knew was when they _saw a report in the papers _of an uprising on board the Russell, and that Captain Reid was sent adrift in a boat with some men. Frederick was implicated as the instigator.

_Some of the sailors who accompanied Frederick were _captured and court-martialed_. _All they said in their defense agreed with Frederick's account - but it was of no use. They were all hanged.

It has been six or seven years now and he has since made a life for himself on the continent. But sadly he will forever be considered an outlaw in Britain, never to return home.'

Margaret sat forward. 'I know that it would be my mother's dearest wish to see him again, but I dare not write lest he decides to come to Milton and is arrested.' Margaret shook her head at the thought. Turning to John she said, 'Should I tell him of Papa, or wait…?' Margaret looked up at the ceiling, desperately trying to fight back the tears that threatened. John supposed she was considering the prospect of shortly losing her mother as well.

After listening to her story, John sat for a moment, his fist on his chin in contemplation. He was only too aware of how the government viewed acts of sedition. _They spare no expense, they send out ships,- they scour the seas to lay hold of the offenders,—the lapse of years does not wash out the memory of the offence,—it is a fresh and vivid crime on the Admiralty books till it is blotted out by blood._

'Margaret, I cannot tell you what you should do. I would only recommend you act in any way which brings you comfort at this terrible time.' John took both Margaret's hands now and looking into her sad face said earnestly, 'You must remember that your brother has sovereignty over any action he takes, or any choice he makes. But if there is one certainty in my mind, it is that he has the right to know, as soon as possible.'

Margaret nodded.

John reluctantly let go of her hands again. 'You said that Mr Bell brought you back to Milton. Where is he now?'

Margaret wrapped her arms about her once more. 'He has gone to see the undertaker and to make..the arrangements.'

'Yes, of course, that is very fine of him. Mr Bell thought very highly of your father.'

'Yes, they were lifelong friends.'

John noticed again how fatigued Margaret appeared. 'Margaret, have you had any sleep since you got home?'

She shook her head. 'I'm not sure that I could, even if I wanted to.'

John stood up resolutely. 'Then I shall make you some tea.'

'No, John, I could not ask you to do that, let me..' Margaret stood, but stumbled, unsteady on her feet from exhaustion.

'Sit down Miss Hale. It was not so long ago that I knew my way around a stove quite well. I am an expert tea maker.' He gave her a wry smile.

Margaret nodded in resignation and returned to her chair.

John made his way to the small kitchen at Crampton, still feeling a sense of disbelief at the events that had occurred overnight. As he put the kettle on to boil he allowed himself a moment to feel his grief for the loss of his friend. He almost felt like he had lost his father all over again.

He was less certain how he felt about Margaret's revelation regarding her brother. To know that this small family had lived with such a secret for so many years; not sharing it with a single soul for fear of the consequences; John felt privileged to be privy to their private world. He knew for sure a part of him was angry at this Frederick for the burden he had placed on his family, particularly Margaret.

With the kettle boiled, John then found it easy to locate everything else he needed in the Hales' meager kitchen. Putting the tea things on a tray he made his way back to Margaret.

As he entered the room he could hear her deep breathing, even before he saw her. As he placed the tray on the table he discovered that she was sleeping, curled up on the settee. Looking around him, John located a discarded shawl hanging over one of the chairs. Collecting it he returned to Margaret and laid it over her, careful not to disturb her. She did not flinch.

John watched her for a short while as she slept. He was pleased to see that her face no longer revealed her grief, soothed as it was in slumber. He knelt down and gently brushed one of her stray curls from her face. Her soft scent, a combination of lavender and linen, pervaded his senses. Letting his thoughts carry him away, he was imagining her in his arms again, in the ballroom in London. Nothing could have been more exquisite, or more right….

John was abruptly wrenched back to the present moment at the sound of the front door opening. With one last glance at Margaret, he straightened up and walked to the entryway.

Mr Bell had returned. 'John, dear fellow, no doubt you have heard our terrible news.'

John motioned for Mr Bell to join him outside. 'Margaret is asleep,' he whispered. Now standing on the doorstep outside of the small house, John noticed how uncharacteristically subdued his landlord was.

'I am glad to hear. Poor girl, but she remains stoic,' said the older gentleman.

'Yes she does, particularly considering that her mother is also not long for the world.' John looked into the distance, wondering at the unfairness of life. 'You will let me know if there is anything I can do, if there is any way I can be of service?'

Mr Bell nodded. 'Of course. The funeral is to be held on Monday. I had hoped to have my friend interred at Oxford, but given the circumstances it will have to be here. Invitations will be sent, although we will not be expecting a large gathering.'

A dark thought entered John's mind. 'What if Mrs Hale..?'

Mr Bell finished John's question for him. 'What if Maria dies in the meantime? Yes it is a grim prospect, but one I have considered. I have made arrangements with the undertaker in case.' Mr Bell was visibly down cast. 'I have also written to Margaret's aunt, Mrs Shaw. Although I can't say I relish the idea of Margaret living under that roof with those people on a permanent basis.'

Neither did John. He vowed Margaret would never have to leave Milton – if he could help it. But today was not the day to settle such matters.

As John was about to leave, Mr Bell added, 'John, I understand that your commitment may be elsewhere, but I know your friendship throughout this ordeal would be particularly meaningful to Margaret.'

John sensed there was some hidden meaning in Mr Bell's words, but he was not currently of a mind to enquire further. He extended his hand to Mr Bell and said good-bye, before making his way back to Marlborough Mill.


	16. Chapter 16

John could hardly recall walking the distance from Crampton to Marlborough Street. He considered for a moment whether he should go straight to the house to tell his mother and sister about the death of his friend. Instead he opted to go to his desk, needing time to properly absorb the news himself.

John slipped through the door to his office, closing it behind him. After hanging his coat, he sat down and put his face in his hands. This was not the way he had imagined he would be returning home. He had expected to arrive with the news of his engagement. Instead he came home to mourn the loss of a friend. He had not known Mr Hale long, but they had quickly forged a strong connection. John would miss his wisdom and his knowledge. He would have been truly content to have him for a father-in-law.

Nearly more shocking than the news of Mr Hale's death was to discover that Mr Hale had a son. That Margaret had a brother. How they must have suffered the pain of separation from their beloved Frederick for years, never knowing whether they would ever see him again. John understood the significance of Margaret confiding in him as she did. He would deserve her trust. No one would hear of it from him. Not even his own mother, from whom there was very little he kept.

The image of his beloved Margaret pale and weary was torturous to his eyes, but not surprising in the circumstances. He would call upon her again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. As long as she would see him he would avail himself to her. More than ever he wanted to show her that he was the kind of man that she would always be able to rely upon, in good times and bad. In sickness and in health, til death do us part he added to himself hopefully.

John rubbed his eyes. He would do his best to distract his thoughts by working on his ledgers, which were badly in need of attention. As he picked up his quill pen, the door of his office burst open and his mother marched through.

'How could you John? I thought I raised you with better sense. How could you even consider marrying that girl?' Hannah Thornton stood at John's desk, her fists clenched by her sides as she tried to contain her anger.

John was taken aback by his mother's outburst. 'Because I love her Mother,' he said defiantly. It then occurred to John that his mother could have had no idea of his intention to propose to Margaret today. 'Wait. Who are you speaking of?'

'Ann Latimer of course! Of all people, John. I am so disappointed in you.' Mrs Thornton shook her head in exasperation. 'It is bad enough that you are at the mercy of that odious little man Latimer in your business dealings with the bank, but to connect yourself with him personally! To become his son through matrimony with that young woman and her questionable reputation! I am sure you are not the first beau she has set her sites on. The rest have just been smart enough to get away!' She sat down in a chair across from John in distress.

'Slow down Mother. You are not making any sense. What makes you think I am engaged to be married to Ann Latimer? I certainly hope Fanny isn't spreading fanciful rumors?' John was irritated. His young sister, although improved of late, often reduced herself to spreading gossip for her own entertainment.

'You should think better of your sister than that John,' Mrs Thornton chastised. 'No I heard it from a more credible source. I was on my way back from the clock makers this morning when I ran into Mr Latimer on the street. He told me he had just returned from London. After exchanging pleasantries,' Mrs Thornton rolled her eyes, 'Mr Latimer suggested that, seeing as we were soon to be family, we should start a tradition of a regular dinner when Ann returns from London next week. As you can imagine I was quite caught off guard. I asked Mr Latimer what he was referring to and he responded that I should perhaps speak to you.'

John felt the blood drain from his face. This could not be happening.

'His meaning was quite plain John. He is under the impression that you and Miss Latimer have an understanding.' Hannah looked at her son's shocked expression; the realization dawning that John was surprised by her news. 'Do you mean to tell me that you did not intend to marry Miss Latimer?

John shook his head. He sat back in his chair, put his head back and closed his eyes. He felt physically ill. How could this have occurred? He opened his eyes again to look at his Mother. 'Are you sure Mother?'

Mrs Thornton snorted derisively. 'If I wasn't do you think I would have charged in here like I did today? Mr Latimer is convinced that you will make an offer to his daughter.' Mrs Thornton paused before adding, 'John did your behavior in London give him any reason to believe that you and his daughter had formed an attachment?'

John got up and walked to the window. Had he given Ann reason to believe that he felt more for her than he did? He hadn't meant to. But he was nonsensical at the time. Reeling from the news that Margaret was to marry Henry Lennox. Perhaps he had paid more notice to his banker's daughter than he should have. John had to concede that he was aware of Ann's attentions at the ball, and in his jealous state did nothing to prevent or avoid them. But he did not welcome them either. He did not care for Ann Latimer. How could he when there was one such as Margaret Hale.

Oh the folly of pride and jealousy! He would contradict this whole affair instantly to his mother, but the words she delivered were from Mr Latimer himself. It could not be discredited. If Mr Latimer thought it, then John was indeed bound to Ann Latimer's - in honor at least.

After some time of silence, John turned around to face his mother, a defeated expression on his face, his voice devoid of tone. 'It would seem I am considered an engaged man.' The words were like a dagger to his stomach. 'If I have acted improperly or shown any degree of impropriety with regards to Miss Latimer, then I must in good conscience face Mr Latimer and accept the consequences.' John sat down behind his desk again. 'I will call on him this evening.'

He began to shuffle papers, unable to think straight. Just as he was beginning to feel hope in his circumstance, he had undone it with a moment of unguarded flirtation. He felt dead inside.

"Mr Hale died last night,' he stated matter-of-factly to his mother.

'What? But Mrs Hale?...'

'The doctor believes his heart gave way from all the stress of Mrs Hale's illness. Mrs Hale is still with us, for now. The funeral will be held on Monday.' John continued to pick up papers without really looking at them.

'I will write a note of condolence to the family, to Miss Hale I suppose.' Mrs Thornton was clearly stunned by everything she had just heard.

'Thank you Mother, now if you'll excuse me, I need to attend to some business.'

Mrs Thornton got up to leave. On an after thought she turned to John, 'When I first asked you how you could consider marrying the girl, you said "Because, I love her". I presume you were not referring to Ann Latimer. Who did you think I meant?'

John inhaled deeply to calm himself. 'It would seem that doesn't matter now Mother.'

Mrs Thornton closed the door behind her.

After some time of mindlessly reading and re-reading the same sheets of paper, John abandoned his office for the noise and occupation of the mill. After barking out some orders to his foreman, he spent the afternoon tending to machines in need of repair or just walking the floor, watching the goings on. The perpetual sound of the machines comforted him, their noise almost cancelling out the accusations and self-castigation in his mind for his carelessness.

Before the end of shift, John went home to freshen up and dress to call on Mr Latimer. As John entered the house, he could hear Fanny clanging out some concerto or other. He raced upstairs to complete his ablutions before stopping by the dining room to see his mother.

As he came in she stood to meet him, her hands automatically reaching up to his cravat to straighten it in a motherly gesture. Looking at his strained face she said 'Are you sure you want to do this John?'

'It would seem I have no choice. It is what it is.' John kissed his mother's cheek. 'Don't wait up for me Mother.' He knew she would.

John ducked out of the warm house into the cold night air. It was still summer, but the nights remained defiantly chilly. He walked briskly to stay warm, traversing the mile to the Latimer's home in easy time. Arriving at the ornate front door, John knocked tentatively. He was feeling like he imagined a man might feel when going to the gallows. Regaining his mettle he knocked more firmly.

The door opened and a plump middle-aged lady answered the door and invited him into a parlor to wait for Mr Latimer. The housekeeper had told John that the Master was just finishing some letters in his study and would not keep him long.

John looked around at the décor. Everything was gaudy and bright - some might even say vulgar. He preferred a more serene pallet of colors. Something welcoming and tasteful that soothed the soul after a tiring day and provided sanctuary from the world outside. A lot of the pieces in the room seemed new.

'John my boy. Good to see you, good to see you. Sorry to have kept you. Come through to my study and we'll have a drink.' Mr Latimer seemed enthusiastic to see him.

'I was just admiring your furnishings,' said John. He ordinarily did not like being insincere, but today he was in no mood to care.

'Yes, yes, well after her mother died, God rest her soul, I let Ann redecorate. She said we needed to modernize. Ha, ha. Here we are John, would you like a brandy?'

'Just a small one sir, thank you.' Mr Latimer poured the amber fluid into some fine crystal glasses, handing one to John.

'To the future,' toasted Mr Latimer, grinning triumphantly at John.

John joined in Mr Latimer's toast and swallowed some of the liquid, savoring its burn on the way down his throat. 'Mr Latimer, about that, the future that is. Excuse me if I speak plainly sir. I believe you saw my mother today?'

Mr Latimer laughed. 'Yes, yes I did, and let the cat quite out of the bag I fear. I'm sorry John, I just presumed that you would have told your mother of your intentions regarding my daughter Ann.' Mr Latimer refilled his glass and offered John a top-up. John vaguely shook his head.

'No, I confess I hadn't,' said John, feeling a cloud of despair rain over him.

'You will no doubt be glad to hear that she comes home from London on Tuesday. I bet you cannot wait, can you John? Besotted the pair of you. I knew almost the moment you two clapped eyes on each other. But the ball in London confirmed it for me. Ah, she will make a beautiful bride will she not John?'

John heard Mr Latimer's question, but did not fully comprehend it. 'Indeed sir' he whispered from his stupor.

'Just like her mother she is, although with much more expensive taste! Your mill had better continue to prosper John, for she will not come cheap.'

Mr Latimer continued to laugh and talk, for how long John was uncertain. Eventually John excused himself saying he needed to return to the mill, and began the walk home. He considered stopping by Crampton, but in light of his situation decided that he was no longer at liberty to call on other eligible young ladies. Not a liberty. The words resounded in his head. John looked up to the sky wanting to scream at the deity that would allow these calamitous events to unfold.

He had entangled himself well this time. As an honorable man he had no option but to regard himself as bound to Miss Latimer. Forever parted from the only woman he had ever loved. To be sentenced to a loveless marriage, void of stirring affection and mutual respect.

The only thing left to be done was to certify the lady's wishes when she returned to Milton next week. John walked on through the cold night with a heavy heart. In his minds eye he had seen himself go down on bended knee, ready to offer himself wholly to the one he loved. But the woman in his dreams, the one whose hand he had sought, had never once been Ann Latimer.

* * *

_I wonder if anyone can guess which Jane Austen book inspired this chapter of the story?_


	17. Chapter 17

_In case you were wondering, the last chapter was inspired by Persuasion. If you recall, the Musgroves expected Captain Wentworth to propose to Louisa and he was completely clueless! Some readers also reminded me of the parallels to the Edward Ferrers/Lucy Steele storyline in Sense and Sensibility._

* * *

John's mother was waiting for him when he returned from the Latimer's. There was no need for words between them as he entered the dining room. There was misery etched in every line of his face. Mrs Thornton's heart ached for her only son. She knew that even though the young Master was a private man, he felt deeply. If indeed he did love another; and Mrs Thornton had her suspicions as to whom he was attached to; he would truly be in pain.

It was very unlike John to act with impropriety. Hannah still found it difficult to conceive of him having given Mr Latimer the impression of an attachment where there was none. But if Mr Latimer was determined to have him for a son-in-law, John's last hope was that the girl did not want to marry him. But that seemed an unlikely prospect.

Mrs Thornton determined that when the engagement was announced, she would enquire further with Fanny about the goings on in London. But until then she would be silent on the matter and respect John's wishes.

* * *

As John made his way to the mill the following morning, he again heard the bells of the parish church. An ominous feeling came over him. This time he suspected he knew who the bells tolled for.

He resisted the desire to walk straight to Crampton, knowing that it would not be proper for him to call on Margaret at such an hour. It was also not his place.

Later that morning, John heard a faint knock on the door of his office. He looked up to see Fanny at the door.

'Fanny, this is a surprise, come in.' It occurred to him at that moment that he could not remember the last time that Fanny had stepped foot in the mill; she usually preferred to stay indoors practicing her music, or sewing cushions – at least when she was not in town ordering the latest creations and gadgets.

'Mamma asked me to bring this down to you. It arrived by courier just moments ago.' Fanny handed him a card.

_Yourself and family are respectfully invited to attend the funeral of Mr and Mrs Richard Hale. The procession will commence from their late residence in Crampton, with the service to be held at the Church of the Apostles on Monday, June 20th, at 2 o'clock P. M. A private burial will be held at Milton Cemetery._

'We can only presume that Mrs Hale has now passed as well. Poor Margaret. Mamma says we shall call and pay our respects tomorrow,' Fanny said ceremoniously.

'Thank you Fanny. I think that would be good and proper of you. As your friend, I am sure Margaret would appreciate your kindness.' Cautiously selecting his words John added, 'As I am needed at the mill tomorrow, would you be so kind as to extend my condolences to her for the loss of her parents?'

'Mamma thought you would not be able to come, although I think that is a little discourteous of you John,' Fanny said with feigned disappointment before a more interesting thought crossed her mind. 'In some ways Margaret should probably think herself fortunate you know.'

John looked at Fanny, wondering what good she thought could possibly come out of this whole tragic affair. 'How exactly?'

'Well, think of the economies of a double funeral. Poor Margaret will be basically destitute now. One funeral for two people should work out far less expensive for her.'

John inhaled, doing his best to maintain his patience with his tactless sibling. 'Yes, I suppose that is true.'

'Poor girl will be wearing black for ages. Do you think that she will continue to live at Crampton? She won't have to leave Milton, will she John? I don't think I could bear the loss of her company,' Fanny said with despair.

'Fanny, as you pointed out yourself, Margaret will now be without an income to live on, other than the small sum as settlement from her parent's estate. We could hardly expect her to stay. I would say it is far more likely that she will return to London to Harley Street with her Aunt.' John's heart sank further. Just saying the words to Fanny breathed life into them. To know that he may never see Margaret again after next week…

'Well perhaps I may be able to go and stay with them again in London. What do you think of that idea John?' Fanny said with brightened expression.

John was beyond pandering to any more of Fanny's trivial thoughts. 'Perhaps you should discuss the issue with Mother at a later time. I hardly think that Margaret will be of a mind to consider such things. I trust you will be compassionate and sensitive in your dealings with her tomorrow Fanny.'

Fanny looked a little miffed at John's lecture but nodded. 'Yes John, of course.'

After Fanny left his office, John threw himself into business matters. Having worked through lunch, when he next heard a knock he was expecting to find his mother at the door with a tray. Instead it was his landlord standing in the doorway.

John stood and extended his hand. 'Mr Bell. Come in.'

'I'm not disturbing you am I John?' Mr Bell sat down with a flourish, not really waiting for an answer to his question. 'Have you received the funeral invitation?'

'Yes, it arrived earlier, ' John answered solemnly.

'You will have deduced then that Mrs Hale has passed since we saw you last.'

John sensed there was an accusatory tone in the older gentleman's voice.

'Yes. I have asked my mother and my sister Fanny to call on Miss Hale tomorrow to pay our respects. Unfortunately I will not be able to join them.' John looked down at the papers on his desk avoiding Mr Bell's scrutiny.

'I see,' was all that Mr Bell said in response.

John swiftly changed the topic of conversation to business, and after discussing a few errant matters regarding the Marlborough Mills property Mr Bell stood to leave. 'Before I go, please allow me to congratulate you on your upcoming betrothal.'

John's expression revealed his shock at Mr Bell's words but did nothing to refute his words.

Mr Bell continued. 'Don't worry. I understand that it is not yet common knowledge. I assure you I shall not speak of it to a soul until the formal announcement appears in the papers. Margaret told me - in complete confidence I might add - that she overheard Mr Latimer boasting about it at the Banker's Ball.'

John stayed silent.

'You must forgive an insolent old man for his premature felicitations. But I do hope that you and Miss Latimer will be very happy together.' With a tip of his hat, Mr Bell strode out of John's office.

As the door closed, John sat back to reconcile what he had just heard. Margaret knows about his situation with Ann Latimer, and has known since London. Even before he knew himself.

What must she think of him? And yet when he was with her yesterday, he could ascertain no trace of resentment. She welcomed him in friendship. It was a mark of Margaret's good character that she tolerated his presence with such equanimity. He would not have been surprised if she had tossed him out by his ear.

John felt like a rogue of the lowest kind.

* * *

Saturday morning came and went and John waited anxiously for news of his mother and sister's visit to Crampton. When their carriage returned home, John bounded from his seat to greet them.

After assisting the ladies alight, they all walked inside the house together. Mrs Thornton ordered tea before they proceeded into the dining room.

Fanny dropped herself dramatically in a chair. 'Oh John, it was awful. The house practically reeked of death!'

'Don't be ridiculous Fanny. It did not.' Mrs Thornton scowled at her daughter.

Ignoring his sister's theatrics, John asked his mother, 'How is Miss Hale Mother?'

Hannah Thornton looked upon her son with sympathy. 'She is holding up admirably in the circumstances. She appears tired and sad, but that is to be expected. I think she will come through this a stronger person. Not that Miss Hale has ever lacked fortitude. She has that in spades I would say.' Mrs Thornton smiled wryly. As the tea things arrived, she began to pour. 'But I am glad for her that the funeral is on Monday. To stay in the same house with two parents lying lifeless upstairs - well it cannot be good for her state of mind. Poor girl.' Mrs Thornton picked up her cup and sipped the hot liquid. 'And that servant of theirs, Dixon I think her name is.' Mrs Thornton rolled her eyes. 'I believe Miss Hale is doing more looking after her than the reverse. The woman is acting like it was her mother that passed, crying and moping about.'

Mrs Thornton noticed how preoccupied John appeared. 'Do not worry about Miss Hale, John. There is nothing more we can do for her at present. Her aunt will likely arrive the day of the funeral and she will be taken care of.'

Fanny moaned, 'I can't believe she is going to leave Milton. Life shall be so dull without her.'

John felt that on this point, he could not disagree with Fanny.


	18. Chapter 18

On Sunday morning the Thorntons went to Church as they always did. The service was well attended, but the absence of the Hale Family, normally seated in the back pews, did not go unnoticed by John. His thoughts were preoccupied by it for most of the service, and afterwards he was ashamed to admit that he was unable to recall the central theme of the sermon.

Walking out into the sunshine after the cool darkness of the stone church, John decided he would walk today. Cooped up all week long in the mill, he often roamed the hills surrounding Milton on a Sunday. He found the exercise revitalising, the thinking time: without the noise and distraction of the factory (or Fanny's piano playing); invaluable.

He promised his mother and Fanny that he would be home in time for luncheon. As the two women continued down the street back to Marlborough Mill, John cut through the cemetery. He often did this. On some days he would stop at his father's grave, on others he would just pass through the cemetery on his way to the outskirts of Milton. Today, feeling a touch of melancholy, he chose to explore the grounds.

Milton's history was mostly with the older graves in the churchyard. The newer general cemetery had been built only 30 years ago. It was picturesque - in its own way. A profusion of monuments, each with their own unique features, set amongst green foliage and blooming shrubs. John followed its winding paths, and serpentine lines of trees.

Each epitaph had a story to tell. Some sad, some strange, some humbling.

As he continued his tour, John noticed the landscape change, the paths becoming straighter, the foliage more sparse. He saw that many of the graves in this particular area were unmarked. Others had makeshift headstones crafted by grieving loved ones from whatever material they could secure at the time of their loss.

As he walked towards the farthest boundary of the cemetery, John noticed a woman on hands and knees at one of these simple graves. She appeared to be pulling weeds. As he approached, his heart leapt as he recognised the lady tending to the plot.

John told himself he should turn around and walk away. His every good sense advised him not to torture himself in this manner. But his heart steered him forward.

As he got closer he could tell that she was crying. Tears were streaming down her face as she manically pulled at the weeds. He wondered for a moment whether he should leave her alone.

'Margaret,' he said gently.

The young woman immediately stopped what she was doing and quickly wiped her tears with her sleeve. Shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand as she looked up, she seemed embarrassed to be found in such a state. 'John, what are you doing here?' she said is a raspy voice.

John looked around at their surroundings. 'I've just been to church. It is such a nice day I thought I would walk…. And you, Margaret?' As he said this, John looked at the small stone at the end of the grave with a name on it etched out by hand. BESSY HIGGINS. There were no other details.

'She was my friend.' More tears welled in Margaret's eyes.

'Yes I remember. She was the woman you waved to the day we toured the mill.'

She nodded, her bottom lip quivering. John knelt down and handed her his handkerchief.

Margaret took it gratefully and half smiled, half cried. 'I still haven't given you back the last one.'

John laughed. As she dried her face, he began to help her extract the weeds that were occupying the soil on the recent grave. 'The groundskeepers don't seem to take as good care of this section as they do the others,' he observed.

Margaret rejoined him and resumed her work until Bessy's plot looked neat and tidy. Inhaling deeply, Margaret said more calmly, 'Thank you John.' She stayed seated on the ground looking at him.

John sat back on his bottom and stretched out his long legs on the grass, resting his hands on his bent knees. 'I think you had done most of it by the time I came along anyway.'

'No, that's not what I meant. I meant thank you for writing to me in London.' Margaret's voice broke as she said this but she held her emotions in tact. 'If you hadn't, I would not have seen either of my parents before they died.' She looked away, putting the handkerchief to her face.

John plucked a blade of grass and ran it between his fingers. 'I felt that you needed to know. I am glad that it was the right decision.' John paused. 'I was sorry to hear about your mother. To have lost both parents in the same week…it just seems unfair.' John threw his blade of grass away and picked another with vigor. He eyed the beautiful young woman in front of him who was still clearly in so much pain. 'I wanted to come and see you but my circumstances are complicated at present. I am not at liberty to..'

'Please.' Margaret held up her palm amicably. 'I understand, really I do. Do not think any more of it.' There was a short uncomfortable silence before Margaret smirked. 'I did enjoy the visit from Mrs Thornton and Fanny yesterday. It was very thoughtful of them to call. I must say after spending time with Fanny, one quickly forgets their troubles. She brought me up to date with all of the town's news since our visit to London. It was quite diverting.' Margaret chortled to herself. 'Your sister has her own unique way of looking at things, don't you agree?'

John cringed at the thought of what Fanny might have said, but he was happy to see a smile light Margaret's lovely face. 'Good heavens, I don't think I want to know what my sister discussed with you.' John joined in with his own trace of humor. 'I love the women in my family more than I can tell you, but they are easily misunderstood. It pleases me that someone other than myself can appreciate them for who they are.'

This was agonizingly exquisite. Talking with her. Laughing with her. Everything with her was so easy and natural. There was an almost mystical attraction between them that was disarming in its force.

Recalling his last conversation with Margaret, John asked, 'Did you write to Frederick?'

Margaret nodded shyly then looked away.

He would not enquire further regarding her brother. 'I presume that Mr Bell will be representing you tomorrow at the funeral?'

Margaret blushed scarlet. 'He will be accompanying me.'

'You mean you are going to the funeral Margaret?'

Despite her grieving state, John saw flashes of the haughty Miss Hale he remembered from their earlier encounters. Her whole countenance seemed to change as she prepared to answer him.

John headed off her argument, putting his hands in the air in surrender. 'I don't mean to quarrel with you Margaret. I am perfectly happy for you to attend. I was just surprised, that was all. Women don't usually go to funerals.'

_'__No: because they can't control themselves. Women of our class don't go, because they have no power over their emotions, and yet are ashamed of showing them. Poor women go, and don't care if they are seen overwhelmed with grief,' _said Margaret with impassioned conviction. Then checking herself she added a little more placidly_, 'But I promise you…. I will be no trouble.'_

John nodded, acknowledging that Margaret was unlike any woman he had ever met. Wanting to diffuse any remaining tension between them, he smiled and said mischievously, 'Well I am glad to see at least that our usual habit of falling into philosophical debates over the human condition has not changed.'

Margaret threw her head back in laughter before hiding her face in her hands momentarily. 'I'm sorry,' she said still smiling.

John would treasure this vision of he and Margaret sitting in the sunshine, freely conversing with each other. It was heartbreaking to think there may never be another moment like it.

The torment and the uncertainty of his circumstances was nearly unbearable. On Tuesday evening he would call on Ann Latimer and resolve his future once and for all. He did not dispute he had acted foolishly in London; he was jealous and wounded at the time, acting-out in response to the lies told by both Lennox and Mrs Shaw. He had flirted with Ann. It was unfortunate that Mr Latimer, and perhaps Ann had interpreted his behavior as something more than it was.

He knew it could never feel with Ann as it did with Margaret. Although not an unintelligent girl, Ann was not his intellectual equal. She did not challenge him like Margaret did. With Margaret he felt alive and inspired.

His only hope was to appeal to Ann's better sense. He prayed that she would not want to marry someone who was so desperately in love with another. He hoped that if he could just explain to her his feelings on the matter, she would not hold him honor bound as he suspected her father would.

'Margaret, is there anything that my family or I can do for you? Any way we can be of service?' John was pleased that their chance meeting had given him the opportunity to be able to offer this in person.

Margaret looked up briefly before lowering her face again. 'No, but thank you. My aunt will arrive tomorrow. Between her and Mr Bell, I believe I will be quite well taken care of.'

'You will return to live with your aunt in London then?' asked John, distressed by the prospect but sure he already knew the answer.

Margaret nodded. 'I will write to Fanny and tell you all how I am doing once I get settled.'

'She would be well pleased to receive your letters. I do believe my sister is quite attached to you.' Not to mention her brother, he thought to himself.

Not wanting this moment to end, but very conscious of the possibility of being discovered sitting together in the grass, John stood up and brushed off his trousers. 'I guess I shall see you tomorrow then Margaret?'

'Yes you shall.' Margaret's expression had become more serious again. Gone was the laughter of moments ago. 'Thank you for stopping John. I have enjoyed our conversation,' she said sincerely.

John tipped his hat. There was so much more he wanted to say. 'Good-day Margaret.'

He walked off back in the direction of Marlborough Mill. When he turned around again 100 yards away she was still watching him. He waved to her but forced himself to move on, thrilling at her notice.

* * *

On Monday morning, John went to the mill to get some work done before the Hales' funeral. Today was the first day that the kitchen would be serving hot meals to the workers. He had deliberately stayed away from the refurbishment work, preferring the union men to finish the job. He was keen however to see how his money had been put to use.

During the negotiations with the unions, Hamper had refused to cooperate or be part of an agreement. John could see that Nicholas Higgins, as the union representative from Hampers, would be stymied no matter what he did or how reasonable he tried to be. John had approached Nicholas after the meetings and offered him work at Marlborough Mill if he wanted to see the kitchen experiment (as it was now known) through to completion. Nicholas, not feeling any loyalty to his oppressive Master started at Marlborough the next day and had overseen the refurbishments himself.

As John approached the kitchen, a delicious aroma was wafting into the mill. A proud Nicholas Higgins called out to him. 'Master, glad ye saw fit to come and take a look.'

John was becoming accustomed to Higgins' humor and gave him a grin. 'I knew it would be in good hands. You did not need me looking over your shoulder as you worked,' he replied. In truth John was still nervous about whether this gamble would pay off to everyone's benefit. 'So, show me what you have done with my money.'

Nicholas gave John a tour of the facility. The kitchen had dressers and open shelving lining the walls where copper pots, utensils, serving dishes and mixing bowls were placed. From the ceiling hung bunches of herbs and crates of bread. Lines of trestle tables with bench seating had been constructed out of local timber for the dining area.

A young girl stood by the dressers, busy with the preparations.

'Master, this is my daughter Mary. She is going to do most of the cooking and purchasing of supplies.' The girl smiled shyly and went back to her task.

John was impressed with what Nicholas had managed to achieve with the minimal budget he had allowed. Apart from Mary's wages and the cost of the groceries and coals for the fire, there would be very few ongoing expenses associated with the whole scheme. If it did manage to quell the union discord for a time and allow them to fill the backlog of orders, it was money well spent.

'It's lamb stew on the menu today Master. Mary is about to serve up, why don't you stay and eat.'

John was reluctant at first, but considering it further decided that it would be a fitting way to mark the inaugural hot lunch. 'Don't mind if I do Higgins.'

Higgins beamed.

John stayed in the kitchen talking with the workers until the last one went back to lunch. He was pleased to see that morale seemed to be high.

As Higgins helped Mary stack the plates and cutlery ready to be washed, John approached him. 'Well done Higgins. Come to my office tomorrow at 8 o'clock and we will discuss your next project.'

Higgins chuckled. 'Aye Master, I will be there.'

Feeling gratified by the results of the kitchen experiment, John sobered as he realised it was time for him to make his way to Crampton.

* * *

The small group assembling at the Hale's house for the funeral procession consisted mostly of Mr Hale's pupils and some local merchants. Then of course there was Mr Bell who would be accompanying Margaret. John's eyes located her at the edge of the gathering wearing a black gown made of crape with a shoulder length veil and gloves. He could see by her determined face that she was applying all her effort to maintaining her composure.

The only coach in the procession was the hearse. It was black with glass sides and had a huge canopy of black ostrich feathers covering it. Inside the hearse lay the coffins of Mr and Mrs Hale, covered with black cloth and flowers.

With Margaret and Mr Bell behind the hearse, the procession made its way at walking pace from Crampton to the Church. Once there, the coffins were carried in and laid on a stand as the mourners sat solemnly in the pews. The local clergyman, a man who barely knew the Hales, presided over the funeral. John felt saddened by how impersonal it felt; attended by so few that were actually intimate with the family. He wondered what the Hales' funeral would have been like had it been held in Helstone where the couple had devoted so much of their life.

John noted that Margaret kept to her word and remained calm and self-possessed throughout. At the end of the service, the mourners congregated outside, waiting to extend their sympathy to her.

John lingered behind the others, wanting to be one of the last to speak to Margaret. As he waited, Mr Bell approached him.

'John, good of you to come.'

'Mr Bell,' John greeted him.

'It was a small gathering, but I suppose you could not expect anything else after so short a time in Milton.' Mr Bell glanced at John who remained silent. 'Margaret's aunt arrived this morning but she was not as willing to flout funeral etiquette as her spirited niece.'

John couldn't help but smile at Mr Bell's comment. 'Indeed.'

'I am just glad that cad Henry Lennox did not accompany Mrs Shaw. I should have run him out of town myself if he had tried to set foot in Milton.'

Intrigued that Mr Bell should disapprove of Henry Lennox so fervently, John asked, 'I understood Mr Lennox to be a close friend of the family. How has he offended you?'

Mr Bell looked at John with surprise. 'Not me John, Margaret. I am surprised you did not hear of it. Perhaps I should not say anything further on the matter. After all, Margaret's welfare is not your concern now, is it?'

John turned to Mr Bell, anger swelling inside. 'Sir, she is my sister's friend, and as such I am very interested in her welfare.'

Mr Bell nodded. 'All right, you force my hand, I shall have to tell you,' he said dramatically. 'The day your letter arrived at Harley Street, Henry Lennox called on Margaret. Let's just say he was under the weather.'

John's disdain for Henry Lennox was growing by the second.

'Anyway, when I arrived at Harley Street moments later, I walked in on Margaret struggling to break free of Henry's grasp as he tried to…force himself on her.'

John was livid. He almost wished the vile little man had come to Milton. He would have given him a reception he would not have forgotten. Margaret needed to be protected from that despicable swine.

At that same moment, the last of the mourners farewelled Margaret. She walked over to where Mr Bell and John were standing.

'Thank you for coming Mr Thornton.' Margaret bowed her head slowly.

John bowed in return.

Margaret turned to Mr Bell. 'The Reverand would like to see us before we go to the cemetery,' said Margaret.

Mr Bell looked at his tenant. 'Well we should go John. Will you be joining us for the interment?'

John looked to Margaret for her approval. She nodded. He turned to Mr Bell again. 'It would be an honor sir,' said John.


	19. Chapter 19

_Bit of trivia for all you Richard Armitage (aka BBC version John Thornton) fans out there. His real mother and father's names are Margaret and John. How bizarre is that!_

* * *

'Margaret my dear, I will leave you here and return to my hotel if you don't mind. Your aunt is here now, and after our last meeting, I don't think she is particularly desirous of my company, do you?' Mr Bell smiled down at his Goddaughter. He had walked the distance from the cemetery with Margaret in silence, having just witnessed the final step of her parent's journey to eternal peace. 'I will return to Oxford tomorrow. '

Only partly cognizant of Mr Bell's words up to this point, Margaret stirred, feeling panic. 'So soon?'

'Oh my darling girl. You are stronger than you realise. Your situation may feel hopeless at the moment, but I have every faith that you will triumph over it.' Mr Bell took Margaret's hands in his. 'You have friends here who will see you through - some more particular than others I think.' Mr Bell gave Margaret a devilish grin. 'It seemed very fitting to have John with us at the burial, don't you think Margaret. Almost like family.'

Margaret shook her head. 'You musn't say things like that now that Papa is gone. John came today out of deep respect and friendship for my father, ' she argued.

'Yes you believe that if you want to my dear.'

Margaret protested, 'Mr Bell, John is to wed Miss Latimer!'

'I have not read it in the papers yet my girl.' Mr Bell touched the tip of Margaret's nose with his fingertip affectionately. 'Anyway, I must go. Give my regards to your aunt. I shall call on you in London when you are settled. Or here in Milton, if Thornton manages to sort out his love affairs before some other dashing young fellow steals you away.'

'Mr Bell!' Margaret scolded while laughing. 'You are terrible.'

'Indulge me my dear. You are the closest thing I have to a daughter and your happiness is paramount to me. John Thornton is a good man, and you two are well suited. I could not rest knowing that you were with anyone that loved you…well less than I do.'

Margaret was grateful for her Godfather's love and devotion. It almost lessened her loss in a way. 'Thank you Mr Bell. For everything. I do not know how I could have survived this week without you. I am indebted to you.'

'Nonsense my dear, you owe me nothing. This_ old man has a right. He has loved your father for five and thirty years; he stood beside him on his wedding-day; he closed his eyes in death._ _And the old man has not a known relation on earth; who is there to mourn for Adam Bell?'_

Margaret thought she saw the beginning of tears in Mr Bell's eyes, but before she could ascertain it, he bowed theatrically and with a sweep of his arm said, 'Good-bye Margaret. Tell your aunt I shall write to her regarding your board and expenses.'

Margaret entered the small house that had been her family's home for mere months. It felt cold and still except for the distant clink of a china cup meeting saucer that seemed to be coming from her father's study. Margaret followed the sound.

'Margaret dear, you must be parched. Come and join me for some tea,' said Aunt Shaw.

Margaret obeyed, grateful to be sitting after some hours on her feet.

'How was the funeral, dear?' asked Mrs Shaw matter-of-factly. Margaret wondered at how indifferent her aunt was regarding her own sister's demise. Since arriving this morning she had shown little sign of grief or mourning other than the fashionable black dress she wore. She seemed more annoyed than anything; her sister's death causing her the inconvenience of abandoning London for this cold northern town.

'The funeral was very respectable Aunt. Mr Bell saw to everything.'

'Good, I'm glad to hear.' She regarded her surroundings. '_I had no conception of how you were living. Our butler's wife lives in a better house than this.' _Mrs Shaw looked at Margaret._ '_But now that the business is over with, we shall get you back to Harley Street where you belong. We shall go to London on the midday train tomorrow.'

Margaret felt alarmed at the short time frame. 'But Aunt, I need to pack up the house and say good-bye to my friends,' she exclaimed.

'Dixon will stay behind and pack. She can arrange an auction for the furniture and then follow us to London. And with regards to your friends, I_ am sure, my dear, you can have no friends here with whom you are sufficiently intimate to justify you in calling upon them so soon_….._'Oh, yes; we shall go to-morrow. I am more and more convinced that this air is bad for you, and makes you look so pale and ill_; …but _if you must pay these calls, I will go with you _in the morning on our way to the station_. Dixon can get us a coach, I suppose?'_

'I would really only like to call on the Thorntons, Aunt. Fanny and I have grown quite close over these weeks, and Mr Thornton,' Margaret swallowed hard at the thought of saying good-bye, 'has been very good to us.'

'I would advise you to be more guarded with Mr Thornton, Margaret. You do not want to give him false hope when you know he is beneath you.'

Margaret was outraged. 'Beneath me? Aunt how can you say that? I am a penniless orphan, whilst he is one of the most powerful men in Milton!'

'He is not a gentleman, Margaret. You have been raised a lady. Your father may have been a poor man of the church, but let us never forget your mother was a Beresford. And as such you owe it to her to make a good match.'

'Aunt Shaw, in marrying Mr Thornton, I would be securing a more prosperous future than I have a right to hope for.'

'I suppose you wish to marry for love like your mother?' Aunt Shaw asked with a hint of derision.

'Indeed Aunt. I could not picture myself happy with any other arrangement.'

'And what of Henry, Margaret? Could you not see your way to forgiving him?'

Margaret sighed. 'I will forgive Henry, in time. He is your relation and I do not want to be the cause of discontent in your home. But I will never love him. Not in a romantic way.'

Mrs Shaw frowned. 'I was so certain that you two would find your way together. I even told Mr Thornton that he should not get his hopes up for this reason.'

Margaret was agog. 'You did what?'

'Don't look at me like that Margaret. I was only trying to protect your interests. The man could barely take his eyes of you, like some lovesick adolescent. I felt sorry for him and told him that it was likely you would marry Henry and that he should forget about you.'

'When was that Aunt? When did you tell him?'

'At the dinner, the night you arrived in London.' Mrs Shaw buttered herself another scone. 'Well it is no matter now. You are to return to London and that is where you belong. You will not have to concern yourself with these Northern men any longer. Besides, there are plenty of eligible young bachelors in London more befitting of a Beresford.'

Margaret sat quietly with her own thoughts trying to recall the turn of events in London. John's behavior changed towards her after he gave her the rose, which was just before the dinner her aunt spoke of. He paid her no notice after that point, except when they danced at the ball. Even then he had seemed distant, aloof, completely unlike the man she had begun to know.

And all that time he thought she was engaged to another man. Did he still think that?

But if he loved her, as everyone suspected, how could he now marry Ann Latimer? Fanny had pointed out that it would be advantageous for him to be Mr Latimer's son in law. But surely he would not sell himself, trade his happiness to secure his business? This seemed completely at odds with the kind and generous man who had helped her family establish themselves in Milton – for no self gain at all.

John had told them how he and his mother had experienced the depths of poverty. They had sacrificed and bore hardships that even she as a poor clergyman's daughter had not had to endure. All in order to build themselves up to their present position. Perhaps John, in his desire to protect his mother and sister, was putting their interests before any wishes of his own heart. Margaret could believe that of him.

Standing up, Margaret went to her Father's book shelves, lovingly running her fingers across the spines of the volumes he had treasured. She came to his well-worn copy of Plato's Republic. John had studied this with him. 'Aunt, other than a few I will keep for myself, I would like all of the books to be sent to Mr Bell. _They are of a kind that he will value for themselves, as well as for papa's sake.'_

'Yes dear. I will tell Dixon to make the arrangements.'

* * *

The following morning, Margaret said good-bye to the little house and stepped up into the carriage to sit beside her aunt. She was not unhappy to be leaving it – it was small and damp and sadly lacking. It was only its association with her dear family that she grieved.

Margaret pointed out landmarks of interest as they took the short, two mile ride to Marlborough Street. Aunt Shaw showed very little enthusiasm for Milton and its industry. Margaret could tell that her Aunt's only interest in Milton was how quickly she could leave.

Arriving in front of the Marlborough Street house, Margaret caught sight of a familiar figure and jumped from the carriage as soon as it stopped. 'Nicholas,' she called out.

Nicholas Higgins turned around to see the bonny face he had met just before his Bessy died. 'Miss Margaret. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes.'

'Nicholas, what are you doing here at Marlborough Mill?'

'I work here now Miss. I have been helping the Master with the kitchen project.'

Margaret was confused. What was the kitchen project?

Nicholas, seeing her puzzled expression went on to explain how when pay talks had stalled with the mills, and the workers were about to strike, John had called the parties together to present their sides and come up with solutions that would benefit the workers and allow the mills to continue to run profitably. Margaret was astonished to hear that John had implemented one of her ideas and had just briefed Nicholas on the next one he was about to execute.

'It's interesting ye being here Margaret. I wondered whether ye didn't have something to do with the Master's thinking? Ye see, I remembered what we spoke about the day you came to see my Bess.'

Margaret blushed but responded, 'Mr Thornton is his own man Nicholas. Anything he has done, he has done for the good of his business.'

'He's a funny one, Miss Margaret. He can be as stern and unforgiving as any Master, yet I can tell he cares about the workers – even if he won't admit it. He has just asked me what I would like inscribed on a tombstone for Bess. Can you imagine that Miss Margaret. Mr Thornton is going to buy my Bess a grand piece for her grave.'

Margaret felt moved by this news more than she could say. 'I am glad Nicholas. That is very generous of Mr Thornton.'

Nicholas looked at Mrs Shaw standing behind Margaret looking irritated. 'Well it was nice to see you Miss, I won't keep you as I am sure you have better things to be doing than talking to the likes of me.' Nicholas grinned.

'I am leaving Milton today Nicholas. Both my parents died lately and I am going to live with my aunt in London. I have just come to call on Mrs Thornton to say good-bye.'

'I'm sorry to hear it Miss. You have been a breath of fresh air around these parts.'

'Thank you Nicholas. Well good luck here at Marlborough. Perhaps I shall come back some day to find out more about your success?'

'Yes Miss.' Nicholas tipped his hat as Margaret returned to her Aunt.

'Friends with the help now are we Margaret?' Mrs Shaw did not wait for an answer as she marched towards the front door of the Thornton's house.


	20. Chapter 20

'Excuse me Master, can I have a word?'

John looked up from his desk. 'Higgins. As long as you make it quick man.'

'Sir, sorry to disturb ye, but I thought ye might want to know that Miss Margaret is at your house.'

John put his pen down to give Nicholas his full attention.

'She is leaving for London today Master.'

'What.. how do you know this Higgins?' John was flustered. She couldn't go today. He just needed 24 hours more.

'She told me. Just now. She is with her aunt. If you go there now sir ye should catch her.'

'Thank you Higgins.' John hurried to grab his coat

* * *

'Mrs Thornton, _allow me to introduce my aunt, Mrs. Shaw_. You would remember that Fanny stayed with her in London.' Mrs Thornton acknowledged the elegant lady with a bow of her head. Margaret continued, '_I am going away from Milton to_day Mrs Thornton.'

Hannah Thornton seemed shocked. 'I am a little surprised that you are leaving so soon Miss Hale. _I know you never liked Milton,' said Mrs. Thornton, with a sort of grim smile; 'but for all that, you must not expect me to congratulate you on quitting it. Where shall you live?'_

_'With my aunt,' replied Margaret, turning towards Mrs. Shaw._

_'My niece will reside with me in Harley Street. She is almost like a daughter to me,' said Mrs. Shaw, looking fondly at Margaret; 'and I am glad to acknowledge my own obligation for any kindness that has been shown to her..'_

'Fanny will be disappointed to have missed you. She is at the nurse this morning,' said Mrs Thornton.

_At this instant Mr. Thornton entered the room_, out of breath from his sprint across the yard.

_'John,' said his mother, _'as you know,_ this lady is Mrs. Shaw, Miss Hale's aunt. I am sorry to say, that Miss Hale's call is to wish us good-bye.'_

_'You are going then!' said he, in a low voice. _

_'Yes,' said Margaret _

John turned away, trying to think of some idea, some clever scheme to delay her departure. It took everything he had not to fall to his knees and beg her to elope to Gretna Green. To forsake the bonds of honor and duty. But he would not disgrace her or his family in this way. He remained silent.

Even as they got up to take leave, he allowed _no tone of regret, or emotion of any kind in the voice with which he said good-bye; and the offered hand was taken with a resolute calmness, _belying the turmoil he felt within_._

As the carriage drove away, his mother returned to the house. John continued to stand on the door-step watching it go. As Margaret looked back, their eyes met one last time…

John did not go back to the house. Instead he went back to his office and asked not to be disturbed. He tried applying himself to his correspondence, but the haunting image of Margaret looking back at him invaded his thoughts at every turn.

Some hours later there was a knock. In frustration he barked out, 'yes, what is it?'

'Now is that any way to speak to your future father in law John?'

It was his banker.

'Mr Latimer sir, I am sorry. Please come in.' Feeling tense and in disarray he drew Mr Latimer's attention to the state of his desk. 'As you can see I am quite drowning in paper at present.'

Mr Latimer sat down. 'Well I hope you won't be too busy to come and see Ann this evening. She will be expecting you of course.'

John didn't need to be reminded. 'Yes sir, I will be there.' John realised too late that his voice betrayed his reluctance.

'Do I detect a trace of doubt John? You are not having second thoughts I hope?' There was a menacing tone to Mr Latimer's voice that John did not like.

'Sir, I am a man of honor. I understand that I have created expectations with my actions. I will make Ann an offer this evening, but I shall do so in complete honesty and transparency of feeling. I owe her that.' John was growing tired of the older man's interference.

Mr Latimer lit a cigar and arrogantly blew a puff of smoke at John. 'Yes, but you see John, I want my daughter to be happy. And I am sure that you would not want any dissatisfaction or disappointment on her part to affect the good relations between the bank and Marlborough Mill now would you?'

'Is that a threat Mr Latimer?' John asked defiantly.

'Call it what you will John, but if you do not make my daughter an offer I will expose your ill behavior and discredit you in this town. Do I make myself clear boy?'

'Perfectly so. Now if you'll excuse me I have work to do. And you would not want me to be late for my appointment with your daughter, would you sir?' John held the man's glare with his own steely gaze.

As Mr Latimer left his office, John slammed the door behind him. John had comprehended all along the implications of refusing to marry Mr Latimer's daughter. Had Mr Latimer been any other rational man, John would have reasoned with him at the beginning. He knew that Mr Latimer was not above using his position for personal gain. But he still could not believe the audacity of the man to blatantly threaten him in such a manner.

John would not be put off from revealing his true feelings to Ann this evening. He respected her more than that. He would put his fate in her hands and trust that she would be sympathetic.

Tidying up the last of his paperwork, John went to the looking glass to straighten his appearance.

'Here, turn around and let me do that.' Mrs Thornton walked to where her son was standing and reached up to straighten his cravat.

When she was finished she took his hand. 'John, I know that you tell me that honor binds you to Ann Latimer; and I don't know what you did to get yourself tangled up in this mind; but I cannot believe with any part of my heart that this is truly what you want.'

John exhaled. 'Mother, I appreciate your concern, but there are bigger things at play here. My future, the mill's future, the welfare of Fanny and yourself - it is all at the mercy of Mr Latimer. You must see that. I cannot be perceived to be doing wrong by him. I must make an offer to his daughter or risk being painted as the black hearted blaggard to all our friends and associates.' John walked to the door and with his hand wresting on the handle smiled at his mother. 'Please do not worry for me so Mother. We must have faith that all will turn out well.'

John walked away wishing that he felt the same conviction as his words implied.

At 6pm sharp, John arrived at the Latimer's. Knocking at the door he felt the now familiar wave of dread wash over him. Mr Latimer himself opened the door.

With a contrived smile he welcomed him in. 'Good evening John my boy. Good to see you, good to see you.' He slapped John on the back. 'Now you haven't forgotten about what we talked about this afternoon, have you John?'

Maintaining his composure he replied, 'I have not.'

Mr Latimer smiled with satisfaction. 'Good, good. Come wait in here my boy, I will go fetch Ann.'

John went in and sat down. His palms felt clammy and he could sense his forehead starting to perspire. He looked at the clock. He just wanted this over.

Five minutes later, John heard footsteps outside the door and a feminine voice say 'Yes Papa, I heard you the first time,' before the door burst open.

John stood up and regarded Ann. She looked fetching in her fashionable London clothes, but it had little effect on him. He thought of Margaret. Just seeing her in her day clothes was enough to send his heart into a flutter.

Ann smiled at John but the expression did not quite reach her eyes. 'Mr Thornton, John, how good to see you again. I cannot believe it has already been weeks since we last saw one another.' Ann indicated for John to sit down.

'Miss Latimer,' John said respectfully.

'Call me Ann,' she said brightly. 'You and I are old friends now are we not John?'

John felt sick to his stomach. The girl seemed entirely too enthusiastic.

'Ann,' he continued, 'You are probably wondering why I am here this evening.' He looked up to see she was regarding him expectantly. 'You are a very amiable young woman and I do value your company and friendship….' John felt increasingly uneasy, his words faltering. 'You see our actions and behaviour whilst in London, have convinced your father that we have an understanding. I have come here tonight, to determine what course it is my duty to pursue. If indeed you do desire it..and by _it_ I mean marriage of course… I will not ask for my release for I know that honor binds me…. but our engagement is entirely in your hands….

Ann Latimer let out a peal of laughter.

John was dumbfounded by this unexpected response to his proposal.

'Oh poor, dear John. How long have you agonized over this? Please allow me to put your mind at rest for I can see that marrying me is as about as palatable to you as a bout of consumption.'

John proceeded to refute her words but Ann halted him. 'John, I do not wish to marry you either. You are very sweet, and devilishly handsome, but I have no desire to marry a manufacturer from Milton.'

John felt relief such that he had never known before.

Ann continued. 'I believe you to be the unwitting victim of my father's ploy to trap me in Milton. You see John, I am an only child and I suspect my father wishes to keep me here in the north. Oh poor, noble John. You were the perfect candidate. Your character is truly too respectable and good. That you would be prepared to marry me when you clearly love another.'

John looked at Ann questioningly.

'Oh it is perfectly plain. I consider myself a catch Mr Thornton. Any bachelor of your age and in your situation would be highly advantaged by marrying me. Only the deepest love could cause a man like you to resent the prospect of marriage with me.'

John was speechless. He had not credited Ann with such insight.

Ann smirked. 'A word of advice though if you will permit me John? When you do propose to this lady love of yours, please make sure it is a far more eloquent and romantic effort than your miserable attempt today.'

Ann stood and proffered her hand. John moved to the middle of the room to meet her.

Finding his voice John asked, 'What should I tell your father?'

Ann giggled. 'Tell him that I rejected you and that I insulted you with my sarcastic remarks. That you offered your heart and I tossed it at you without regard for your feelings or your honor. Tell him that you have never met with a nastier vixen in all of your life.' She nodded her approval. 'That should suffice.'

John shook his head. 'I would never say that about you. You have shown too much grace. Thank you again Ann. I wish you every felicity in marriage one day – when it is right for you.'

John tipped his hat and left the room. He could not have seen the sudden sadness that emerged on Ann's face as she turned to the window to blink away a tear.

Out in the hallway Mr Latimer approached John. 'Well my boy, have you named a date?'

'No sir. How can a date be named when the lady will not have me? She says she does not love me and believes that we are incompatible.' John was satisfied that he had conveyed a suitable level of outrage in his words.

Mr Latimer grew angry, his plans dissolving before his eyes. 'Wait, I shall speak to her. She does not know what is good for her.'

'Sir, I have kept my end of the bargain and offered her myself with all the sincerity I could muster. She has declined to accept me. I have nothing more to say and I request that you do not importune me any further. Good evening.'

John almost ran from the house, desperate to escape any further prospect of being entrapped into a loveless marriage.

He could not believe his good fortune. Never had it occurred to him that the girl would not be in love with him. Vanity run amuck! He blamed himself for listening to far too much of his mother's boasting and in the process supposing himself irresistible to every eligible young woman. He was an even greater fool than he first thought. John rushed home eager to tell his mother of his reprieve.

Entering the house, he found Fanny sitting in the dining room alone, sewing a cushion. 'Where is mother?'

'Speaking with cook.' Fanny said in between her humming.

John headed to the stairs. 'Tell mother when she comes in that I am upstairs packing a travelling bag. I need to go to London tomorrow on urgent business.'

Fanny exclaimed cheerily, 'Oh you will be able to travel with Margaret and her aunt then.'

John backtracked down the stairs. 'But Margaret left for London today?'

Fanny continued to sew, not noticing John's probing stare. 'No she didn't. I saw her after I went to see nurse today. I have a terrible twinge in my side.' Fanny stood up to demonstrate. 'Every time I stretch…'

Not wanting to seem uncaring yet impatient to know Margaret's whereabouts John said, 'Yes, but what of Margaret, Fanny?'

'Oh, she and her aunt did not go to London as planned today. Something about the train not working. I don't know why, but she is going in the morning instead. I shall be sad to see her go.'

John could almost hear the acceleration of his blood pumping in his ears. 'You mean tonight she is still here in Milton?'

Fanny nodded, screwing up her nose again and looking at John like he had lost his mind. 'Yes, they were returning to Crampton when I saw them.'

John let out a triumphant laugh and collected Fanny in his arms, lifting her off her feet to swing her around. Placing her back on the ground, he kissed her cheek and started for the door. 'Tell mother..'

'Tell me what?' said Hannah as she walked into the dining room.

John turned to his Mother. 'She will not have me. She does not love me. I am unshackled and free.' He could not help the exultation he felt.

His mother's lip turned up slightly at her son's rejoicing. 'So you are free to marry whomever you choose?'

John nodded.

'Well I am surprised you are still standing here then?' said Mrs Thornton dryly.

John grinned at her for giving him her blessing and headed out the door. As he made his way into the darkness he recalled how five days before he had set out on the very same mission. He promised himself that he would brook no obstacles this time. He was going to claim this lady tonight before she could be removed to London. No man or woman would stand in his way.

He just had one stop to make on his way to Crampton.

* * *

Back at the house Fanny was still looking confused. 'Who doesn't love him Mother?'

Mrs Thornton sat down to pick up her sewing. 'Ann Latimer, the bankers daughter,' she said nonchalantly.

'Oh,' said Fanny. 'Then where is he going off to in such a rush again?'

Mrs Thornton loved her only daughter but thought at times she was a little dim. 'To get himself engaged I suppose.'

Fanny looked amazed. 'But Miss Latimer won't have him. He said so himself.'

Hannah shook her head. 'Never mind about it now Fanny. I am sure your brother will tell you all about it when he gets home later. In fact I am sure that you will not be able to stop him telling you, even if you tried.'

Fanny pouted.

Mrs Thornton carried on sewing.


	21. Chapter 21

Margaret was sitting in her father's study reading when she heard the knock. It was nearly 8 o'clock PM. She found it curious that anyone should be calling at this hour, especially when she was not expected - by her general acquaintances at least - to still be in residence at Crampton. For a brief moment Margaret feared that her brother Frederick may have braved the journey from Spain. Calming herself, she calculated it to be impossible for him to have received the news so fast. She cautiously opened the door.

Margaret recognised the tall figure standing in the dark immediately. 'John.' She was so surprised she could hardly find her voice. Margaret opened the door wider so that he could come in.

'Good evening Margaret,' he said in his deeply alluring baritone. 'I am sorry to disturb you. Fanny told me you would be here.'

Margaret suddenly felt very self-conscious. John was standing dangerously close, his blue eyes watching her. 'No, not at all. My aunt has retired early this evening with a headache, so you find me all alone this evening.' To her own ears, Margaret's words sounded nervous. 'Do come in to father's study. I will go find Dixon to ask her to make us some tea.'

As she turned to head to the kitchen, John reached out and took her hand. 'No, I don't need tea Margaret.' His touch sent ripples of sensation through her, reminding her of the waltz they shared in London. He led her silently into the study and closed the door behind them.

John did not let go of her hand until they were both seated on the settee. He gazed at her, the slightest smile creasing the lines beside his beautiful eyes. Margaret could hardly breathe. This was different to their other encounters. John had always been more reserved, more restrained.

'Margaret, I..'

'John before you speak, I need to tell you something.' Margaret had no logical explanation for interrupting him. She was overwhelmed by her feelings and the words were out of her mouth before she could think it through. 'I know that this is probably not pertinent anymore, but I need to reinstate the truth where it has been grossly misrepresented.' Her words were tumbling out awkwardly. Holding her head high she continued. 'I know that my aunt told you in London that I was intended for marriage with Henry Lennox. I want to declare, while I still can, that I am not engaged to Mr Lennox nor am I ever likely to be. I believe in my heart that I would not make him happy and he,… well he has done wrong by me. I could never consider him worthy of my affections.' Slightly mortified by her own outburst, Margaret bit her bottom lip and dropped her eyes to the floor.

John gently turned her face to look at him. His bemused grin had transformed into the roguish smile that she loved so much. She wished she could capture this moment in a picture so as to look at it forever.

'I know. Fanny informed me of that as well.'

Margaret exhaled in relief.

'She told me the same night I came to see you, just after your father died.' His smile turned into a more serious expression. 'Margaret, do you remember when we sat at Bessy's grave together? I told you then that I wanted to call on you after your mother's death but that my situation was.. complicated.'

Margaret nodded, anxious for John to reveal more about the nature of his attachment to Ann Latimer but fearing it at the same time.

'I feel I owe you an explanation.'

Margaret shook her head not wanting him to feel any obligation to her. Before she could speak, John put his fingers over her lips to silence her. Once again her heart leapt in her chest. John's fingers lingered, then moved to gently caress her cheek. He sat for a moment studying her face before resuming his story.

'It is true that your aunt warned me off you after her dinner in London, but as it was, I had already spent the evening listening to Henry's colourful tale of your plans for a Christmas wedding.' John squeezed her hand. 'Of course I know that to be untrue – now – but at the time I was..well I was blind with jealousy.'

Margaret was giddy. She was glad to be seated for she could feel the sensation leaving all her limbs.

'And in my irrational state I resolved to direct my attentions elsewhere.'

'To Miss Latimer,' Margaret said almost in a whisper.

'Quite.' John looked down in shame and clasped his hands. 'I behaved like a fool and Mr Latimer called me on it. When he returned to Milton late last week he made it clear that I should atone for my actions by making an offer to his daughter.'

Margaret's stomach dropped.

John turned to her again. 'I have been unable to resolve the situation until Miss Latimer returned from London.' John looked at Margaret and the small smile again lit his eyes. 'I spoke with her at length tonight. There is true integrity in her character that I was blind to before. I am glad to say that by her good grace she has released me from any understanding that her father was attempting to bind us with, and has set me free.'

Giving her a meaningful look, John reached into his coat pocket to retrieve something. Margaret saw that it was a yellow rose. 'I gave you one like this the night of the dinner in London.'

Margaret nodded, taking the rose as John offered it. The anticipation of the moment was nearly all too much for her inexperienced heart.

'Do you remember what I said?' He looked at her tenderly.

'You spoke of making new memories.' How could she forget? It was probably the instant that she truly fell in love with him. She put her nose to the flower to take in its scent - just as she did that night in London.

'I had meant that I wanted you to make new memories with me Margaret.' John's expression was full of meaning. 'I am and have for some time been completely under your spell. At the beginning you caught my notice with your astonishing beauty, but later you captivated my soul with your brilliant mind and incomparable virtue. I am so completely, utterly consumed by you that I fear I am incapable of living in peace a moment longer unless you consent to be mine.'

Margaret was intoxicated by his words.

'I know this is terrible timing, and I know that I am breaking every rule of propriety just by coming here tonight, but I cannot let you go back to London. You must forgive my ineloquence Margaret, a London gentleman might write sonnets about you, but alas I am no poet. I am just a lowly manufacturer, from a cold and smoky northern town, that loves you with all of his being.'

When John proceeded to go down on bended knee Margaret feared she would faint. 'Margaret Hale, will you marry me?'

Margaret's hands were trembling as she placed them either side of John's face. His cheeks felt rough to her hands, the sensation sending a quiver through her body. 'Yes!'

John stood up then, towering over her tiny frame still seated on the settee. As he drew her up to stand in front of him, Margaret could see her own wonderment reflected in John's expression. Still holding her hand he moved closer to her. Margaret's heart was thumping. She was anxious and uncertain of what to do. John smiled knowingly and ever so gently tipped her chin up so she was looking directly at him. Slowly he lowered his face to press his lips against hers. Margaret felt a tear escape down her cheek at the joy of the moment. John noticed it too and slowly pulled away.

He looked at her with apprehension. 'Margaret, have I displeased you? Tell me dearest what is the matter?'

Margaret smiled, laughing at her own sentimental heart. 'Nothing, nothing at all. I could not imagine a more perfect moment. Thank you.' Margaret brought John's hand up to her lips and kissed it. 'Thank you. I know it will be the proudest day of my life when you make me your wife.

John pulled her closer then and kissed her again, this time more passionately. Margaret felt dizzy by the time he released her, thankful that he was still holding her secure in his arms.

Margaret stayed there for a time, her face resting against John's chest. She could hear the steady beating of his heart; smell the heady scent of his cologne. She never imagined it would feel like this.

John was the first to speak. 'I must not stay too long or else your aunt will think less of me than she already does. But I must confess that I am loath to ever leave you now that we are finally here together, like this.'

She leant back to regard him. 'Thankfully my aunt sleeps soundly.'

Raising his eyebrows, John stole another kiss before sitting them both down on the settee, his fiancé still held tightly in his arms.

'Are you worried how your aunt will look upon the match?' There was sincere concern on John's face.

Margaret reflected briefly on Aunt Shaw. She was her only family now. 'It will take some time for my aunt to acquiesce. But I will not let her discourage me. My parents I believe, in particular my father, would have rejoiced at having you for a son-in-law. That thought alone is consolation.

John held her tighter.

Margaret marvelled at how safe she felt in his embrace. The sadness was diminished; replaced by hope and contentment more sweet than she had ever known. This was where she belonged - in his arms.

Margaret believed with all her heart that fate had led her family to Milton. There was no doubt in her mind that her place in life was with this wonderful man, and that she would be forever truly happy in this cold and smoky northern town.

* * *

**Epilogue**

Life was as it should be with Margaret now by John's side at Marlborough Street. John asked Margaret whether she would consult with Nicholas Higgins on matters affecting the workers at Marlborough Mill. When the happy couple told Nicholas of their engagement, he had not seemed surprised by the news. He congratulated them wholeheartedly, only giving the Master a knowing grin.

Fanny was ecstatic at the match, now claiming Margaret as her sister. She insisted to all who would listen that she had long suspected John's partiality to her friend and was relieved he had finally made her an offer.

Mrs Thornton was accepting of her son's decision to wed, and quickly made arrangements for alternative accommodation for Margaret during their engagement in order to avoid scandalous gossip in connection with her family. She was slowly getting used to the idea of having a daughter-in-law.

After leaving Milton in a rage, Aunt Shaw eventually acknowledged Margaret's choice of husband and wrote to give her blessing. She even promised to keep Henry away from her house should Margaret and John wish to visit – for Henry's protection she said.

Rumor from London was that Ann Latimer was to be shortly engaged to Samuel de Waldon. Mr Latimer was said to be considering relocating to live closer to his daughter once she was married. Fanny, harboring only a small amount of bitterness, remarked that she wondered whether Miss Latimer had developed a fondness for toy trains and pinned butterfly specimens. John had looked puzzled by Fanny's cryptic comment, but Margaret had laughed heartily.

THE END


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